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THE 



PRINTER BOYr 



OB, 



HOW BEN EEANXLIN MADE HIS MAEK 



AN EXAMPLE FOR YOUTH. 



WllVva»^ ,V,e(.Vt,Y:.e^c ^- T 



BOSTON: 
J. E. TILTON AND COMPANY, 

161 Washington Street. 
18 64. 



£"•302 ■ 



60338 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1880, hy 

J. E. TILTON AND COMPANY, 

In the Clftk's Office of the District Court of the District of Maasachusett. 



University PreBS, Cambridge t 
gteieotyped and Printed by W.lch, Bigelow, & Co. 



PREFACE. 



This book is one of a series, the design of which is to 
illustrate the familiar maxim, that " the boy is father 
OP THE MAN." The early life of Franklin is sketched 
from his childhood to the time he was established in 
business, thus showing what he was in boyhood and youth ; 
and the achievements of his manhood are summed up in 
a closing chapter, to substantiate the truth of the above 
proverb. 

The author believes that the lives of distinguished men 
may be incorporated into a story, uniting narrative and 
dialogue so as to be more attractive to the young. John 
Bunyan was the first to adopt this style, and his inimitable 
Pilgrim's Progress charms the young reader, not only by 
its graphic imagery, but also by its alternation of narra- 
tive and dialogue. Since his day, others have adopted a 
similar style, particularly in works of fiction, with success. 
Why may not truth appear in such a dress as successfully 
as fiction ? Why may not actual lives be presented in this 
manner as vividly as imaginary ones ? The young mind 



IV PREFACE. 

will seize upon a truth or fact that is conveyed in a story, 
when it will remain wholly indifferent to it as it appears 
in a simple statement. So the life of an eminent man may 
engage the attention of this class, if he is made to speak 
and act for himself, when they would not be interested in 
it, if it were presented to them in a plain summary of 
facts. 

In this volume, the actual early life of Franklin is 
wrought into a story. The imagination has done no more 
than to weave the facts of his boyhood and youth into a 
" tale of real life." It makes Benjamin and his associates 
speak and do what biographers say they spoke and did. 
It simply paints the scenes and acts of which other writers 
have told, 

A conspicuous place is given in the work to the maxima 
of Franklin for the purpose of conveying important lessons 
in regard to the formation of character, and thus stimulat- 
ing the young in the path of well-doing. Whole volumes 
of meaning are condensed into many of his wise and pithy 



If young readers give this book a cordial welcome, we 
promise them another in due time, on the same plan, 
bearmg the title. The Farmer-Boy, or How George 
Washington became President. 



CONTENTS 



TU Wlmtle l 

THE HOLIDAT. — THE COPPERS IN BENJAMIN FKANKLIN'S POCKET. 
— INQUIRY. — BOUNDING OUT. — THE TOT-SHOP THEN AND NOW. — 
THE BOY AND HIS WHISTLE. — RESOLVED TO PURCHASE. — THE BAR- 
GAIN. — GOING HOME. — MAKING MUSIC. — DISCUSSION ABOUT THE 
PRICE. — A POCKET FULL OF GOOD THINGS. — BENJAMIN CRYING 
OVER HIS WHISTLE. — A BENEFIT. — %VHAT FRANKLIN SAID OF IT 
SIXTY YEARS AFTER. — BOYS DO NOT LEARN FROM THE PAST. — 
OTHER WAYS OF PAYING TOO DEAR FOR A WHISTLE. — DECEIT AND 
FALSEHOOD. — TIPPLING. — WORLDLY PLEASURE. 



II. 

At School 



TALK ABOUT SCHOOL. — BROTHERS AT TRADES. — BENJABIIN FOR 
THE CHURCH. — EARLY LEARNED TO READ. — LONG PROCESS TO PRE- 
PARE FOR MINISTRY. — " UNCLE BENJAMIN'S " REMARKS AND OFFER, 
— WHO IS "uncle BENJAMIN." — A HUNDRED YEARS AGO. — WHEN 
BENJAMIN WAS BORN. — BAPTIZED ON SAME DAY HE WAS BORN. — 
THE RECORD. — DESCRIPTION OP HIS BIRTHPLACE. — EARLY LOVE 
OF BOOKS. — HIS father's VIOLIN. — POOR BUT INDUSTRIOUS. — SEV- 
ENTEEN CHILDREN. — DECISION TO ENTER SCHOOL. — ^^ WHERE IT WAS, 
AND BY WHOM KEPT. — HIS RAPID PROGRESS. — MR. FRANKLIN'S 
TRUST IN PROVIDENCE. — AT THE HEAD OF HIS CLASS. — THE BOY 
FATHER OF THE MAN. — DANIEL WEBSTER. — DAVID RITTENHOUSK 
AND GEORGE STEPHENSON. — HOPES OF BENJAMIN. 



VI CONTENTS. 

III. 

A CMnge 19 

CONVKRSATION BETWEEN MR. AND MRS. FRANKLIN. — DECISION TO 
REMOVE BENJAMIN FROM SCHOOL.. — TRIALS OF MINISTERS. — BREAD 
BEFORE LEARNING. — SUBJECT OPENED TO BENJAMIN. — HIS FEEL- 
INGS. — CHARACTER OF SCHOOLS THEN. — MR. BROWN WELL' S WRIT- 
ING-SCHOOL. — benjamin's obedience. — HIS FATHER STRICT. — 
KEEPING THE SABBATH. — LOVE AND RESPECT FOR HIS FATHER. — 
REBUKING THE INQUISITIVE LANDLORD. — ERECTING MARBLE STONE 
TO THE MEMORY OF HIS PARENTS. — THE STONE REPLACED BY CITI- 
ZENS OF BOSTON. — OBEDIENCE OF THE PEEL BOYS. — HARRY GAR- 
LAND. — STEPHENSON'S NOBLE ACT TO HIS PARENTS. — THE EIGHT 
BROTHERS AT INAUGURATION OF THE FRANKLIN STATUE. — PROGRESS 
IN PENMANSHIP. — BELOVED BY TEACHER. 



IV. 

Making Candles 29 

PUT TO CANDLE-MAKING AT TEN YEARS OF AGE. — HIS FATHER A 
TALLOW-CHANDLER. — BENJAMIN OPPOSED TO IT. — IMPORTANCE OF 
INDUSTRY. — HIS FATHER'S HIVE ^V^THOUT DRONES. — BENJAMIN'^ 
MAXIMS ABOUT INDUSTRY IN LATER LIFE. — "THE USED KEY AL- 
WAYS BRIGHT." — "DILIGENCE THE MOTHER OF GOOD LUCK." — BAD 
LUCK. — BIBLE VIEW. — NO SCHOOLING AFTER TEN YEARS OP AGE. 

— CUTTING CANDLE-WICKS. — WHERE WAS THE SHOP. — BENJAMIN 
DESIRES TO GO TO SEA. — HIS MOTHER'S VETO. — AN OLDER BROTHER 
WENT TO SEA. — TALK WITH HIS FATHER. — HIS FATHER'S VETO. — 
PROMISE OF ANOTHER PURSUIT. — RESPECT FOR A PATERNAL " NO." 

— HIS SPORTS ON THE WATER. — NO PROSPECT OF FAME. — GIOTTI 
MARKING IN THE SAND. — WEBSTER'S POCKET-HANDKERCHIEF. — 
ROGER SHERMAN AT HIS BENCH. — BOYS NOT EXCUSED FROM SCHOOL 
BY THESE EXAMPLES. — BENEFIT OF A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE. — SAVED 
BENJAMIN RUSSELL IN THUNDER-STORM. — HOW STEPHENSON FELT 
FOR HIS SON. 



CONTENTS. Vii 

V. 

The Rogue's Wharf . . . . . .44 

" ALL ABOARD." — THE QUAGMIRE. — PROPOSAL TO BUILD A 
W^ARF, — THE HEAP OF STONES. — PLAN TO STEAL THEM. — TIME 
SET IN THE EVENING. — THE PLAN EXECUTED. — THE WHARF DONE. 

— KEEPING THE SECRET. — BENJAMIN'S FATHER FINDS HIM OUT. — 
BENJAMIN IN A TIGHT PLACE. '— PROMISES TO DO BETTER. — HOW 
THE BOYS WERE FOUND OUT. — BENJAMIN'S READING HABITS. — 
WHAT BOOKS LIKED. — MATHER'S *' ESSAYS TO DO GOOD." — LETTER 
TO MATHER'S BON. — BOYS SHOULD BE IN EVENINGS. — ADVANTAGB 
OF READING. — LETTER TO A GIRL ON THE SUBJECT. 

VI. 

Table -Talk 55 

INTERVIEW WITH A FRIEND. — HIS ANCESTORS. — THEIR HARD- 
SHIPS. — DENIED LIBERTY OF CONSCIENCE. — THE BIBLE UNDER THB 
STOOL. — LEAVING THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. — CAME TO THIS 
COUNTRY TO ENJOY RELIGIOUS FREEDOM. — CONVERSATION ON USE- 
FUL THEMES AT TABLE. — ALLOWED NO COMPLAINTS ABOUT FOOD. — 
INTRODUCED GUESTS AND SENSIBLE REMARKS TO PREVENT. — EF- 
FECT ON BENJAMIN. — THE WASHBURNE FAMILY. — BENEFIT OF GOOb 
CONVERSATION. — HIS FATHER'S REMARKS ABOUT FOOD. — BENJAMIN 
TEMPERATE IN EATING AND DRINKING. — " THE WATER-AMERICAN." 

— NO TEMPERANCE SOCIETIES THEN. — TABLE-TALK 'SO'H. — A TABLE 
SCENE. 

VII. 

Choosing a Trade 64 

STILL OPPOSED TO CAITOLE-MAKINQ. — A DIRTY, SIMPLE BUSINESS. 

— WANTS TO DO SOMETHING THAT REQUIRES INGENUITY. — HIS 
FATHER AND MOTHER CONFERRING TOGETHER. —" A ROLLING SXONB 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

GATHERS NO MOSS." — AFRAID HE WILL GO TO SEA. — BIINJAMIN'S 
VIEWS AND MAXIMS. — OPPORTUNITY TO CHOOSE A TRADE. — OOING 
TO SEE DIFFERENT TRADES. — DEVOTES A DAY TO IT. — JOINER'S, 
TURNER'S, AND BRICKLAYER'S WORK. — CUTLERY SHOP, HIS COUSIN'S. 
WinCH TRADE HE CHOSE. — HIS FATHER'S DECISION. — ARRANGE- 
MENT TO LEARN TO MAKE CUTLERY. — WISE TO CONSULT TASTE AND 
TACT OF BENJAMIN. — HANDEL THE MUSICIAN. — SIR JOSHUA REY- 
NOLDS. — FATHER OF JOHN SMEATON. — OPPOSING CHILD'S BENT OF 
MIND. 

VIII. 

The Printer-Boy 76 

TAKEN AWAY FROM COUSIN SAMUEL. — HIS BROTHER'S RETURN 
FROM ENGLAND. — SETTING UP PRINTING BUSINESS. — PROPOSAL TO 
BENJAMIN. — A LONG APPRENTICESHIP. — BENJAMIN DISPOSED TO 
TURN PRINTER-BOY. — HIS BROTHER'S OFFER TO TEACH HIM THE 
ART OF PRINTING. — BORROWING BOOKS TO READ, AND SITl/NG UP 
NIGHTS. — MR. ADAMS'S LIBRARY AND HIS KINDNESS. — GOING TO IT 
FOR BOOKS. — SCARCITY OF BOOKS. — COMPARED WITH NOW. — TWO 
AND A HALF BOOKS MADE IN A MINUTE. — NO LIBRARIES THEN. — 
THEIR ENORMOUS SIZE NOW. — HABIT OF READING MADE HIM PUNC- 
TUAL. — EXAMPLE OF LORD BROUGHAM. 



IX. 

First Literary Enterprise ... .85 

A PIECB OF POETRY. — PRONOUNCED GOOD. — PROPOSITION TO 
PRINT HIS ARTICLES. — " THE LIGHT-HOUSE TRAGEDY." — A SAILOR'S 

SONG. PRINTING THEM. — SELLING THEM IN THE STREETS. — A 

BUCCESSFUL ENTERPRISE. — HIS FATHER OPPOSES. — CONDEMNS PO- 
ETRY IN GENERAL AND BENJAMIN'S IN PARTICULAR. — A SE\EMB5 
REBUKE. — CRESTFALLEN. — CONFERENCE WITH JAMES. — HIS FA- 
THER'S CENSURE A BENEFIT. — PRACTICE OF WRITING COMPOSITION 
EXCELLENT. — HOW IT BENEFITED BENJAMIN, EVEN PECUNIARILY. 
— THE farmer's SON AND MINISTER. 



CONTENTS. IX 

X. 
The Dispute 93 

DISPUTE WITH JOHN COLLINS. — A BOOKISH FELLOW. — THE EDU- 
CATION OF GIKLS. — THE CONTROVERSIAL CORRESPONDENCE. — HIS 
FATHER J"INDS THE LETTERS. — HIS CRITICISMS. — COLLINS MORE 
EXCELLENCES THAN BENJAMIN. — BOUGHT A COPY OF THE SPECTA- 
TOR AND STUDIED IT LABORIOUSLY. — SORRY THAT HE DID NOT 
CONTINUE TO WRITE POETRY. — HIS FATHER'S COUNSEL, — HIS ECON- 
OMY OF TIME. — A BOOK ALWAYS BY HIS SIDE. — HIS MAXIMS ON 
THIS SUBJECT. — VIOLATING THE SABBATH TO GAIN TIME TO STUDY. 
— USEFUL CONVERSATION AND TALKING NONSENSE. — HUNDREDS 
RUINED BY A SIMILAR CAUSE. — WALTER SCOTT HIDING NOVELS 
FROM HIS FATHER. — POPE GOING TO THE THEATRE. — EXCEPTIONS 
TO THE GENERAL RULE. 

XI. 

Plcdn Fare ........ 103 

PROPOSITION TO BOARD HIMSELF. — BECAME A VEGETARIAN BY 
READING TRYON'S BOOK. — WHY HE DID IT. — HOW MUCH MONEY 
HE SAVED BY DOING IT. — SPENT IT FOR BOOKS. — HOW MUCH 
TIME SAVED ALSO. — COCKER'S ARITHMETIC. — OTHER BOOKS READ 
AT ODD MOMENTS. — HIS PLAN TO SAVE TIME. — HIS MAXIMS ON 
SAVING TIME. — AIM TO BE USEFUL. — THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. — 
SHAFTESBURY'S WORKS. — BENJAMIN A DOUBTER. — MAKES KNOWN 
HIS DOUBTS TO COLLINS. — DANGER OF READING ATTACKS UPON THB 
GOSPEL. 

XII. 

^ he Newspaper', . . . . . .113 

STARTING THE THIRD NEWSPAPER IN AMERICA. — OPPOSITION TO 
IT. — NUMBER OF NEWSPAPERS NOW. — FORTY MILLION SHEETS FROM 
EIGHT PRESSES. — SEVENTY-ONE MILES A DAY OF NEWSPAPERS FROM 

a* 



X CONTENTS. 

ONE OFFICE, — ALMOST ENOUGH TO REACH AROUND THE EARTH IN A 
TEAR. — WEIGH THESE PAPERS. — FOUR MILLION POUNDS IN A YEAR. 

— TWO THOUSAND TWO-HORSE LOADS. — THE NEW ENGLAND COURANT 
STARTED. — PRINTER, NEWS-CARRIER, AND COLLECTOR. — THE CLUB. 

— INCITED TO WRITE AN ARTICLE. — TUCKS IT UNDER PRINTING- 
OFFICE DOOR. — HEARS IT FAVORABLY COMMENTED ON. — WRITES 
OTHER ARTICLES. — THIS AN INCIDENT THAT DECIDES HIS CAREER. 

— CANNING AT ETON AND THE "MICROCOSM." — SIMILAR PAPER IN 
SEMINARIES NOW. 



XIII. 

The Cent out of the Bag 122 

EAGER TO OWN THE PIECES. — ^DISCLOSES THE AUTHORSHIP TO 
JAMES. — INTERVIEW WITH THE CLUB. — SURPRISE THAT BENJAMIN 
WROTE THEM. — TREATED WITH ATTENTION BY THE CLUB. — OP- 
PRESSED BY JAMES. — TROUBLE WITH HIM. — BENJAMIN RESOLVES 
TO LEAVE HIM. — THE PRINTING-OFFICE FURNISHES MANY SCHOLARS. 
— A NEW ENGLAND DIVINE. — BENJAMIN DIRECTED IN PATH TO 
WHICH NATIVE ENDOWMENTS POINTED. — SO OF LORD NELSON. — 
ANECDOTE OF HIM. — BUXTON, WILBERFORCE, AND OTHERS. — EXAM- 
PLE OF THE AUTHOR OF THE " OPTIC LIBRARY." 



XIV. 
The Arrest 129 

ACTION OF GENERAL COURT TO ARREST JAMES FRANKLIN FOB 
LIBEL. — THE LEGISLATIVE ORDER. -^ JAMES IMPRISONED FOUB 
WEEKS, AND BENJAMIN ARRESTED, BUT DISCHARGED. — THE IMME- 
DIATE CAUSE OF THE ARREST. — MEETING OF THE CLUB. — DECISION 
TO PUBLISH THE PAPER IN BENJAMIN'S NAME. — SHREWD EVASION. 
— YOUNGEST CONDUCTOR OP A PAPER WHO EVER LIVED. — HIS 
THRUSTS AT THE GOVERNMENT. — BENJAMIN BORN IN TROUBLOUS 
TIMES. — ATTACKS AND MASSACRES BY THE SAVAGES. — PREPARED 
THEREBY TO ACT IN ACHIEVING INDEPENDENCE. — BEARS IN BOSTON. 



CONTENTS. XI 

XV. 
The Runaway 136 

A QUAEREL. — ASSERTTNQ HIS FREEDOM. — STATEMENT OF TIIK 
CASE. — APPEAL TO HIS FATHER. — HIS FATHER'S DECISION. — 
LEAVES HIS BROTHER. — FAILS TO GET WORK. — CHARGED WITH 
BEING AN INFIDEL. — PLANS TO RUN AWAY. — CONFERENCE WITH 
COLLINS.— HIS PLAN TO GET AWAY. — COLLINS' S TALK WITH THE 
CAPTAIN OF A NEW YORK SLOOP, AND HIS BASE LIE. — BENJAMIN 
BOARDS THE SLOOP. — ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. — HIS LONELY CON- 
DITION. — GUILT OF A RUNAWAY. — QUARREL BETWEEN BROTHERS 
PAINFUL. — CASE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. — LINES OF DR. WATTS. 

XVI. 

Another Trip and its Trials . . . .145 

CALLS ON PRINTER BRADFORD IN NEW YORK. — NO WORK. — REC- 
OMMENDED TO GO TO PHILADELPHIA. — ARRANGES FOR THE TRIP. 

— STARTS FOR PHILADELPHIA. — THE DRUNKEN DUTCHMAN. — HIS 
WET VOLUME AND BOTTLE. — STRUCK BY A SQUALL. — A SAD NIGHT 
OFF LONG ISLAND. —BENJAMIN'S FEELINGS. — THE NEXT MORNING. 

— STORM SUBSIDES. — NEXT NIGHT ON SHORE. — ADVANTAGE OF A 
LITTLE READING. — BOYS LOSE NOTHING BY SPENDING LEISURE 
HOURS IN READING. — THE YOUNG MAN IN MAINE. — DISCIPLINE OP 
THE MIND. — CASE OF GIBBON. — WHAT BOYS SAY. — SIB WALTER 
SCOTT IN BOYHOOD, AND HIS WARNING WORDS. — BENJAMIN LEAV- 
ING AMBOY. — FIFTY MILES ON FOOT. — SUSPECTED OF BEING A 
RUNAWAY. — REACHES THE QUACK DOCTOR'S TAVERN. — ARRIVAL 
AT BURLINGTON. — THE GINGERBREAD WOMAN. — THE BOAT GONE. — 
GOING BACK TO THE GINGERBREAD WOMAN. — HIS WALK. — THE 
UNEXPECTED BOAT AND HIS PASSAGE. — IN COOPER'S CREEK AT 
MIDNIGHT. — REACHED PHILADELPHIA SUNDAY MORNING. — THE 
iUILLING. — THE BOY AND HIS LOAF. — GOING UP MARKET STREET 
ATITH A baker's LOAF UNDER EACH ARM. — MISS READ. — ASLEEP 
,N A QUAKER CHURCH. — SUSPECTED AGAIN OF BEING A RUNAWAY 
— FIRST NIGHT IN PHILADELPHIA. 



Xll CONTENTS. 

XYII. 

Getting Work 165 

CALL UPON ANDREW BRADFORD. — HIS SURPRISE. — DISAPPOINT- 
MENT. — DIRECTED TO KEIMER. — THE INTERVIEW. — ADVANTAGE OP 
THOROUGHNESS. — BENJAMIN DID THINGS WELL. — BRADFORD'S TALK 
AVITH KEIMER. — KEIMER ENSNARED. — BENJAMIN MAKES A DIS- 
CLOSURE. — KEIMER ASTONISHED. — REPAIRING A PRINTING-PRESS. — 
AT WORK FOR KEIMER. — GOES TO BOARD AT MR. READ'S. — FtS 
POWER OF OBSERVATION. — STEPHENSON LIKE HIM. — WILLIAM HUT- 
TON AGAIN AND HIS DULCIMER. — PERSEVERANCE. — NOT PROUD. — 
HOW 3IANY BOYS WOULD HAVE DONE. — MAXIMS. 

XYIII. 

News from Home, and Return , . .174 

THE UNEXPECTED LETTER. — BENJAMIN'S REPLY. — GOVERNOR 
KEITH CALLS TO SEE HIM. — SURPRISE OF KEIMER. — INVITES IHM 
TO THE TAVERN. — ADVISES HIM TO SET UP BUSINESS FOR HIMSELF. 

— benjamin's OBJECTIONS OVERRULED. — DECIDES TO RETURN TO 
BOSTON TO ASK HIS FATHER'S ASSISTANCE. — HOW THE GOVERNOR 
LEARNED OF BENJAMIN. — HIS RETURN TO BOSTON. — JOY AT HOME. 

— HIS GENTLEMANLY APPEARANCE. — GOES TO HIS BROTHER'S PRINT- 
ING-OFFICE. — COLD RECEPTION. — INTERVIEW WITH THE WORKMEN. 

— EXHIBITION OF HIS SILVER COIN. — HIS WATCH. — THE DOLLA R 
" TREAT." — JAMES INCENSED. — INTERVIEW WITH HIS MOTHER. — 
STATING BUSINESS TO HIS FATHER, AND GIVING HIM THE GOV- 
ERNOR'S LETTER. — HIS FATHER'S TALK WITH CAPTAIN HOMES. — 
HIS FATHER'S DENIAL. — COLLINS RETURNS WITH HIM • 

XIX. 

Back Again .186 

SAILS FOR NEW YORK. — STOPS AT NEWPORT AND VISITS HIS 
BROTHER. — THE NEW PASSENGERS. — THE OLD QUAKER LADY'S AT- 



CONTENTS. XUl 

TENTION.-A NARROW ESCAPE. - ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. - COLUN8 
THERE FIRST, AND INTOXICATED. - MAKES A CONFESSION TO BENJA- 
MIN. - OWNS THAT HE GAMBLES. -LOST ALL HIS MONEY. - MESSAGE 
FROM GOVERNOR BURNET. - BENJAMIN GOES TO SEE HIM. -TRIP TO 
PHILADELPHIA. -COLLECTS VERNON'S DEBT. - TAKES COLLINS TO 
BOARD WITH HIM. -THROWS COLLLNS INTO DELAWARE RIVER. - 
THE FATE OF COLLINS. - INTERVIEW WITH GOVERNOR KEITH. -THE 
GOVERNOR RESOLVES TO SET HIM UP IN BUSINESS. 

XX. 

A Literari/ Game l^^ 

THE THREE ASSOCIATES. -THEIR CHARACTERS. -DISCUSSION ABOUT 
POETS AND POETRY. -A PROPOSITION TO PARAPHRASE THE EIGH- 
TEENTH PSALM. -OSBORNE'S PREJUDICE, AND HOW TO PROVE HIM. 
-BENJAMIN READS RALPH'S PIECE AS HIS OWN. -THE SUCCESS OP 
THE RUSE. — SUBSEQUENT INTERVIEW OF BENJAMIN AND RALPH.— 
THEIR DELIGHT OVER THE RESULT. - THE EXPOSURE OF OSBORNE 
AT THE NEXT MEETING. - HIS MORTIFICATION. - FATE OF WATSON 
.ND OSBORNE. — ADVANTAGE OF SUCH LITERARY CLUBS. 

XXI. 

Going to Enghnd 202 

INTERVIEW WITH GOVERNOR KEITH. - ARRANGEMENTS TO GO TO 
ENGLAND IN THE ANNIS.-ONLY ONE VESSEL A YEAR TO SAIL. - 
STILL WORKS FOR KEIMER. -THE LATTER A SINGULAR MAN. - EX- 
PERIMENT OF A VEGETABLE DIET. - KEIMER' S ABHORRENCE OF II. 
-EATS THE NVHOLE OF A PIG AT LAST.-HOW BENJAMIN CAME TO 
RELINQUISH A VEGETABLE DIET. - COURTING MISS READ. - HER 
MOTHER OBJECTS TO ENGAGEMENT. - RALPH CONCLUDES TO GO 
WITH HIM. -FOUR OR FIVE PRINTING-OFFICES THEN, AND TWO OB 
THREE THOUSAND NOW. - THE GOVERNOR'S LETTERS. - SET SAIL. - 
ARRIVAL IN LONDON—DISCOVERS THAT HIS LETTERS ARE WORTH- 
LESS. -THE GOVERNOR A DECEIVER. -TELLS HIS STORY TO DEN- 
HAM. - GOES TO WORK IN A PRINTING-OFFICE. -AN ADVANTAGE OF 



XIT CONTENTS. 

WRITING COMPOSITION. — HIS "DISSERTATION ON LIBEETT AND NE- 
CESSITY, PLEASURE AND PAIN." — WON HIM FAME. — BARGAIN WITH 
A BOOKSELLER. — BEER-DRINKING IN THE OFFICE. — BENJAMIN'S 
OPPOSITION TO IT. — HE WROUGHT A REFORM. — HIS FIRMNESS AND 
INDEPENDENCE. — SWIMMING. — DRAWN A MILE BY HIS KITE ON THE 
WATER. — ADVISED TO OPEN SWIMMING-SCHOOL. - DECIDES TO RE- 
TURN TO AMERICA. — A SCENE FORTY YEARS AFTER. 



XXII. 

Farewell to England 218 

ARRIVAL IN PHILADELPHIA. — CALLS ON KEIMER. — MEETS GOV- 
ERNOR KEITH IN THE STREET. — INTERVIEW WITH MISS READ. — 
HIS WANT OF FIDELITY. — DENHAM OPENED A STORE, AND BENJA- 
MIN WAS HIS CLERK. — THE SICKNESS OF BOTH. — DENHAM DIES. — 
BENJAMIN THROWN OUT OF BUSINESS. — RETURNS TO HIS TRADE, AND 
WORKS FOR KEIMER. — LEGACY FROM DENHAM. — HIS FIDELITY AI^ 
WAYS PLEASED HIS EMPLOYERS. — MANY YOUTH NOT CARE FOR 
employer's SUCCESS. — FIDELITY ONE SECRET OF BENJAMIN'S SUC- 
CESS. — THE OXFORD STUDENT. — DANGERS OF THEATRICAL AMUSE- 
MENTS AND BAD COMPANY. — TROUBLE WITH KEIMER. — REFUSES 
TO WORK FOR HIM. — ARRANGEMENTS TO GO INTO BUSINESS WITH 
MEREDITH. 

XXIII. 

Setting up Business 228 

THE INVENTORY. — KEIMER'S MESSAGE. — AT BURLINGTON. — 
FRIENDS MADE THERE. — INTERVIEW WITH THE SURVEYOR-GEN- 
ERAL. — OPENING HIS OFFICE. — SAMUEL MICKLE. — HIS CROAKING. 
— THE RESULT. — POETICAL NOTICE IN THE PRINTING-OFFICE. — HIS 
RESOLUTION IN THE OUTSET. — HIS INDUSTRY. — PROPHECIES ABOUT 
FAILURE. — THE EVERY-NIGHT CLUB. — THE LOUNGER REBUKED, — 
FRANKLIN NEVER ABOVE HIS BUSINESS. — CASE OF JUDGE MAR- 
SHALL. — ECONOMY. — HOW HE BEGAN TO KEEP HOUiJE. — MAXIMS. 



CONTENTS. XV 

— INTEGRITY. — THE SLANDERER TURNED AWAY. — SOCRATES AND 
ARCHELAUS. — BUSINESS PROSPEROUS. — HOPES AND FEARS. -- COLE- 
MAN AND GRACE, AND THEIR OFFER. — TALK WITH MEREDITH, AND 
THE LATTER LEAVES. 

XXIY. 
The Junto 241 

A LITERARY CLUB. — WHAT FRANKLIN SAID OF IT. — A NEW PROP- 
OSITION FOR A LIBRARY. — SCARCITY OF BOOKS. — FRANKLIN THE 
FATHER OF LIBRARIES. — SIZE OF THE FIRST LIBRARY NOW. — 
QUESTIONS ASKED BY THE " JUNTO." — THEIR PRACTICAL CHARAC- 
TER. — QUESTIONS DISCUSSED. — MEMBERS LIMITED TO TWELVE. — 
NO IMPROVEMENT ON THE " JUNTO." — FRANKLIN'S HAND SEEN IN 
IT. — ALL BUT ONE OR TWO MEMBERS BECAME RESPECTABLE, AND 
MOST OF THEM DISTINGUISHED MEN. — STUDYING FRENCH, ITALIAN, 
AND SPANISH. — PLAYING CHESS. — STUDYING LATIN. —THE " JUNTO " 
COPIED IN ENGLAND. — CANNING. — FRANKLIN BEGINS TO THINK 
MORE OF RELIGION. — DOUBTING HIS DOUBTS. — A MINISTER CALLS 
UPON HIM. — GOES TO MEETING. — THE FATAL SERMON. — POWER OP 
CONSCIENCE. — PRAYS, AND HIS FORM OF PRAYER. — HIS BOOK OF 
GOODNESS. — RULES OF CONDUCT, AND WHAT THEY SHOW. 



XXV. 
Conchmn 251 

THE PRINTER-BOY AND MAN. — HIS BROTHER RECONCILED TO HIM. 
— REARS HIS NEPHEW. — HOLDS IMPORTANT OFFICES. — REFUSES 
PATENT OF A STOVE. — GIFT TO ENGLISH CLERGYMAN. — IMPROVES 
STREET-LAMPS. — FORMS FIRE-COMPANY. — ORGANIZES MILITIA. — A 
SCHEDULE OF THE OFFICES HE FILLED AND HONORS HE WON. — 
HONORED IN FRANCE, AND ALL EUROPE. — SOCIETIES AND TOWNS 
KAMED FOR HIM. — A LIBRARY PRESENTED TO THE TOWN OF FRANK- 
LIN, MASS. — HIS REMARK ABOUT MORE SENSE THAN SOUND. — WASH- 
INGTON'S PRAISE OF HIM. — ACTION OF CONGRESS.. — DEMONSTRATIONS 



/ 

XVi CONTENTS. 

OF RESPECT IN FRANCE. — A BENJAMIN TRULY, AND NOT A BEN-ONt. 

— REGRETTING HIS EARLY DISREGARD OF RELIGION. — HIS BENEyO- 
LENCE. — EMPTIED HIS POCKETS FOR WHITEFIELD. — HIS HUMANITY, 
AND WORDS OP A BIOGRAPHER. — HIS REVERENCE FOR GOD IN HIGH 
PLACES. — PROPOSED THE FIRST FAST. — ADVOCATES PRAYERS IN 
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION. — THE YOUNG MAN AT HIS DEATH-BBD. 

— HIS LAST WORDS FOR THE BIBLE. 



THE PRINTER-BOY 



I. 

THE WHISTLE. 



IT WAS a bright, welcome holiday to little Ben- 
jamin Franklin, when his kind parents put some 
coppers into his pocket, to spend as he saw fit. Pos- 
sibly it was the first time he was ever permitted to 
go out alone into the streets of Boston with money 
to spend for his own pleasure : for he was now but 
seven years old. 

" Can I have more coppers when these are gone ? " 
he inquired. 

" No," replied his mother, " you have quite as 
many now as will be for your welfare, I think. You 
must be a good boy, and keep out of mischief." 

" What are you going to buy ? " asked an older 
brother ; and, without waiting for a reply, answered 
the question himself, by saying, " Candy of course." 

" Lay out your money wisely," added his mother. 
« I shall want to see how much wisdom you display 
1 A 



2 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

in your purchases. Kemember ' all is not gold that 
glitters.' " 

His mother had scarcely ceased speaking, when 
Benjamin bounded out of the house, eager to enjoy 
the anticipated pleasures of the day. Like other 
boys, on such occasions, his head was filled with be- 
witching fancies, and he evidently expected such a 
day of joy as he never had before. First in his 
thoughts stood the toy-shop, into the windows of 
which he had often looked wistfully, although it 
was a small affair compared with the Boston toy- 
shops of the present day. Every article in it could 
have been examined in one or two hours, while 
now it would take as many days to view all the 
articles in one of these curiosity-shops. It is 
almost wonderful, and even fabulous, this mul*ti- 
plication of playthings for the children. There 
seems to be no end to them, and many a girl and 
boy have been put to their "wits' ends" to know 
what to choose out of the thousands of articles ar- 
ranged on the shelves. 

Benjamin had not proceeded far before he met a 
boy blowing away upon a new-bought whistle, as il 
its music were sweeter than the voice of lark or 
nightingale. He could scarcely help envying him 
the happiness of owning so valuable a treasure. 
He stopped and looked at him with an expression 
of delight, and they exchanged glances that showed 
a genuine sympathy springing up between them. 



THE WHISTLE. 3 

At once he resolved to possess a similar musical in- 
strument, as I suppose it may be called ; and away 
he hastened to the toy-shop, knowing that it must 
have been purchased there. 

" Any whistles ? " he inquired. 

" Plenty of them," answered the proprietor, with 
a smile, as he brought forth a number, to the 
amazement of his little customer. 

" I will give you all the money I have for one," 
said Benjamin, without waiting to inquire the price, 
so enthusiastic was he to become the possessor of 
such a prize. 

" Ah ! all you have ? " responded the merchant. 
" Perhaps you have not so much as I ask for them. 
You see these are very nice whistles." 

" I know it," added Benjamin, " and I will give 
you all the money I have for one," still more afraid 
that he should not be able to obtain one. 

" How much money have you ? " 

Benjamin told him honestly just how much he 
had, and the merchant agreed to give him a 
whistle in exchange for it. 

Never was a child more delighted than he, when 
the bargain was made. He tried every whistle, 
that he might select the one having the most music 
in it ; and when his choice was settled, he turned 
his steps towards home. He thought no more of 
other sights and scenes, and cared not for sweet- 
meats and knick-knacks, now that he owned this 



4: THE PRINTER-BOY. 

wonderful thing. He reached home and hurried into 
the house, blowing his whistle lustily as he went, as 
if he expected to astonish the whole race of Frank 
lins by the shrillness, if not by the sweetness, of 
his music. 

" What have you there, Benjamin ? " inquired his 
mother. 

" A whistle," he answered, hardly stopping his 
blowing long enough to give a reverent reply. 

" You got back quick, it seems to me," she con- 
tinued. " Have you seen all that is to be seen ? " 

"All I want to see," he answered, — which was 
very true. He was so completely carried away with 
his whistle that he had lost all his interest in every- 
thing else belonging to the holiday. His cup of 
delight was running over now that he could march 
about the house with musical sounds of his own 
making. 

" How much did you give for your whistle ? " 
asked one of his cousins, who was present. 

" All the money I had," he replied. 

" What ! " exclaimed his brother, " did you give 
all your money for that little concern ? " 

" Yes, every cent of it." 

" You are not half so bright as I thought you 
were," continued his brother. " It is four times as 
much as the whistle is worth." 

" You should have asked the price of it, in the 
first place," said his mother. " Some men will take 



THE WHISTLE. 5 

all the money they can get for an article. Perhaps 
he did not ask so much as you gave for it." 

" If you had given a reasonable price for it," said 
his brother, "you might have had enough left to 
have bought a pocket full of good things." 

" Yes," added his cousin, " peppermints, candy, 
cakes, and more perhaps ; but it is the first time he 
ever went a shopping on a holiday." 

" I must confess you are a smart fellow, Ben," 
(as he was familiarly called by the boys,) "to be 
taken in like that," continued his brother, rather 
deridingly. " All your money for that worthless 
thing, that is enough to make us crazy ! You 
ought to have known better. Suppose you had 
had twice as much money, you would have given 
it all for the whistle, I suppose, if this is the way 
you trade." 

" Perhaps he would have bought two or three of 
them in that case," said his cousin, at the same time 
looking very much as if he intended to make sport 
of the young whistler. 

By this time Benjamin, who had said nothing in 
reply to their taunts and reproofs, was running over 
with feeling, and he could hold in no longer. He 
burst mto tears, and made even more noise by cry- 
ing than he had done with his whistle. Both their 
^ridicule and the thought of having paid so much 
Bibre than he ought for the article, overcame him, 
and he found relief in tears. His mother came to 
tliG. rescue, by saying, — 



6 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" Never mind, Benjamin, you will understand 
better next time. We must all live and learn. I 
guess you did about as well as most boys of your 
age would." 

"I think so, too," said his cousin; "but we 
wanted to have a little sport seeing it is a holiday. 
So wipe up, * Ben,' and we will have a good time 
yet." 

On the whole, it was really a benefit that Benja- 
min paid too much for his whistle. For he learned 
a lesson thereby which he never forgot. It de- 
stroyed his happiness on that holiday, but it saved 
him from much unhappiness in years to come. 
More than sixty years afterwards, when he was 
in France, he wrote to a friend, rehearsing this 
incident of his childhood, and said, — 

" This, however, was afterwards of use to me, the 
impression continuing on my mind ; so that often, 
when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, 
I said to myself, DonH give too much for the whistle ; 
and I saved my money. 

" As~I grew up, came into the world, and observed 
the actions of men, I thought I met with many, 
very many, who gave too much for the whistle. 

" When I saw one too ambitious of court favor, 
sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, his re- 
pose, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, 
to attain it, I have said to myself, This man gives too 
much for his whistle. 



THE WHISTLE. 7 

" When I saw another fond of popularity, con- 
stantly employing himself in political bustles, neg- 
lecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that 
neglect, He pays^ indeed, said I, too much for his 
whistle. 

" If I see one fond of appearance, or fine clothes, 
fine houses, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above 
his fortune, — for which he contracts debts, and 
ends his career in a prison, — Alas ! say I, he has 
paid dear, very dear, for his whistle. 

" When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl 
married to an ill-natured brute of a husband, WJiat 
a pity, say I, that she should pay so much for a 
whistle ! 

" In short, I conceive that great part of the mis- 
eries of mankind are brought upon them by the 
false estimates they have made of the value of 
things, and by their giving too much for their 
whistled 

Thus Benjamin made a good use of one of the 
foolish acts of his boyhood, which tells well for both 
-his head and heart. Many boys are far less wise, 
and do the same foolish thing over and over again. 
They never learn wisdom from the past. Poor, sim- 
ple, pitiable class of boys ! 

Let the reader prove himself another Benjamin 
Franklin in this respect. Remember that tliere is 
more than one way to pay too dear for a whistle, 
and he is wisest who tries to discover them all. 



8 THE PRINTEK-BOY. 

When a boy equivocates, or deceives, to conceal 
some act of disobedience from his parents or teachers, 
and thereby lays the foundations for habitual un- 
truthfulness, he pays too dear for the whistle ; and 
he will learn the truth of it when he becomes older, 
and cannot command the confidence of his friends 
and neighbors, but is branded by them as an unre- 
liable, 'dishonest man. 

In like manner, the boy who thinks it is manly to 
smoke, and tip the wine-cup occasionally, will find 
that he has a very expensive whistle, when he be- 
comes a " hale fellow well met " among a miserable 
class of young men, and is despised and discarded 
by the virtuous and good. 

So, in general, the young person who is fascinated 
by worldly pleasure, and supposes that wealth and 
honor are real apples of gold to the possessor, think- 
ing less of goodness and a life of piety than he does 
of mere show and worldliness, will find that he has 
been playing with a costly whistle, when age and his 
last sickness comes, and death confronts him with 
its stern realities. 



11. 

AT SCHOOL. 

" TI7"ELL, BENJAMIN," said his father, laying 
V T down his violin, upon which he was wont 
to play in the evening for his own and children's 
amusement, " how should you like to go to school 
and qualify yourself to be a minister ? You are as 
fond of your books as James is of printing, or John 
of making candles ! " 

" I should like to go to school well enough," re- 
plied Benjamin, after some hesitation, " but I don't 
know about the rest of it." 

" You are old enough now," continued his father, 
" to think about a trade or profession. Your elder 
brothers have their trades, and perhaps you ought 
to give your service to the Church. You like to 
study, do you not ? " 

" Yes, sir ! the best of anything I do." A very 
correct answer, since he began to read so young 
that he could not remember the time when he could 
not read his Bible. 

" It will cost a good deal to keep you at school 
and educate you, and perhaps I shall not be able 
1* 



10 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

to do it with SO large a family to support. 1 
have to be very industrious now to make my ends 
meet. But if you are diligent to improve your 
time, and lend a helping hand at home, out of 
school hours, I may be able to do it." 

" When shall I begin school, if you decide to let 
me go ? " 

"Immediately. It is a long process 4o become 
qualified for the ministry, and the sooner you begin 
the better.'' 

" Uncle Benjamin," as he was called in the fam- 
ily, a brother of our little hero's father, sat listen- 
ing to the conversation, and, at this point, re- 
marked, " Yes, Benjamin, it is the best thing you 
can do. I am sure you can make very rapid pro- 
gress at school ; and there ought to be one preacher 
in the family, I think." 

"So many people have told me," added his fa- 
ther. " Dr. WiUard [his pastor] said as much to 
me not long ago, and I am fully persuaded to make 
the trial." 

" It won't be a severe trial, neither," said Uncle 
Benjamin. " The thing can be accomplished more 
easily than at first appears. I tell you what it is, 
Benjamin," addressing himself to the boy, " when 
you are qualified for the office, I will give you my 
large volume of short-hand sermons, and the read- 
ing of these will improve your manner of sermon- 
izing." 



AT SCHOOL. ll 

This uncle had recently come over from England, 
and was boarding in the family. He was a very 
intelligent man, quite a literary character for the 
times, and had been acciistomed to take down the 
sermons to which he listened, in short-hand, until 
he had preserved a large manuscript volume of 
them, which he valued highly. It was this volume 
which he promised to bequeath to his nephew when 
he should become qualified to enter the ministry. 

This interview occurred almost one hundred and 
fifty years ago, between Benjamin Franklin, who 
paid too much for the whistle, and his father, whose 
Christian name was Josiah. The lad was eight 
years old at the time, a bright, active, intelligent 
boy, who was more fond of reading than any other 
child in the family. He was born in Boston on 
Sunday, January 6, (Old Style, corresponding to 
January 17, New Style,) 1706, and on the same 
day was carried into the Old South Church, and 
there baptized. Both his father and mother were 
members of that church. 

If you ask how it is known that he was born and 
baptized on the same day, we answer, that on the 
" Old Boston Town Records of Births," under the 
heading, " Boston Births Entered 1708," is the 
following : — 

" Benjamin, son of Josiah Franklin, and Abiali, 
his wife, Born 6 Jan., 1706." 

By some oversight or negligence the birth was not 



12 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

recorded until two years after Benjamin was born ; 
yet it shows that he was born on Jan. 6, 1706. 

Then we turn to the records of the Old South 
Church, and find among the baptism of infants the 
following : — 

" 1706, Jan. 6. Benjamin, son of Josiah and 
Abiah Franklin." 

Putting these two records together, they establish 
beyond doubt the fact that Benjamin Pranklin was 
born and baptized on the same day. It has gener- 
ally been said that we do not know by whom he was 
baptized, although the rite must have been performed 
either by Dr. Samuel Willard or Rev. Ebenezer 
Pemberton, who were then pastors of the Old South 
Church. But the fact that the record is made in the 
handwriting of Dr. Willard would indicate that he 
baptized him. He was born in Milk Street, opposite 
the church, so that he had only to be carried across 
the street to receive the ordinance of baptism. 

A picture of the old house in which he was born 
has been preserved, and it stood on the spot where 
now rises a lofty granite warehouse, bearing, in 
raised letters beneath the cornice, the inscription, 
" Birthplace op Franklin." The house measured 
twenty feet in width, and was about thirty feet long, 
including the L. It was three stories high in ap- 
pearance, the third being the attic. On the lower 
floor of the main house there was only one room, 
which was about twenty feet square, and served the 



AT SCHOOL. 13 

family the triple purpose of parlor, sitting-room, and 
dining-hall. It contained an old-fashioned fire-place, 
BO large that an ox might have been roasted before 
it. The second and third stories originally con- 
tained but one chamber each, of ample dimensions, 
and furnished in the plainest manner. The attic 
was an unplastered room, where probably some of 
the elder children lodged. This house stood about 
a hundred years after the Franklins left it, and was 
finally destroyed by fire, on Saturday, Dec. 29, 
1810. 

He was named for the aforesaid uncle, and this 
circumstance alone was well suited to beget a mu- 
tual interest and attachment between them. His 
love of books early attracted the attention of his 
parents and others, and they regarded him as a 
precocious child. On this account the remark was 
often volunteered, " that he ought to be sent to 
college. '^ 

We have said that Mr. Franklin was playing upon 
his violin on the evening of the aforesaid interview. 
He was very fond of music, was a good singer, and 
performed well upon the violin. He was wont to 
gather his family around him during the leisure 
hours of evening, and sing and play. Many cheer- 
ful and happy seasons were passed in this way at 
the fireside, the influence of which was excellent 
upon his children. 

That it would be doubtful whether he could meet 



14 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

the expense of sending Benjamin to college, must 
appear to the reader, when he learns that he was a 
laboring man, and had a family of seventeen chil 
dren, thirteen of whom sat around his table to- 
gether, at one time. Fourteen were older than 
Benjamin, and two were younger. To support so 
large a family must have taxed the energies of the 
father to the utmost, even though no one of them 
were destined for a learned profession. 

It was arranged that Benjamin should immedi- 
ately enter school, and enjoy the best literary ad- 
vantages which the poverty of his father could pro- 
vide. He acceded to the plan with hearty good- 
will, and commenced his studies with such zeal and 
enthusiasm as few scholars exhibit. 

The school was taught by Mr. Nathaniel Williams, 
successor of the famous Boston teacher, Mr. Ezekiel 
Cheever, who was instructor thirty-five years, and 
who discontinued teaching, as Cotton Mather said 
" only when mortality took him off." The homel} 
old wooden school-house, one story and a half high 
stood near by the spot on which the bronze statu.e of 
Franklin is now seen, and there was the " school 
house green," where " Ben " and his companions 
sported together. It was probably the only free 
grammar school which Boston afforded at that time ; 
for it was only a little village compared with its 
present size. It then contained only about ten 
thousand inhabitants, and now it has more than 



AT SCHOOL. 



15 



fifteen times that number. There were no stately 
public buildings at that time, like the State-House, 
Court-House, Custom-House, Athenaeum, Public Li- 
brary, &c. Such splendid granite blocks of stores 
as we now behold on almost every business street, 
were then unknown ; and no shops could be found, 
as now, filled with the fabrics of every land. There 
were no costly houses of worship, the " Old South 
Meeting-house," then about half its present size, 
being the oldest one in existence at the time. 

When Benjamin was born, the streets of Boston 
were not named. This was not done until the year 
after, when there were but one hundred and ten of 
them in number. Now there are a thousand streets, 
courts, and places. Thus it will be seen that the 
Boston of that day resembled the present Boston 
little more than Benjamin Franklin blowing his whis- 
tle resembled Benjamin Franklin the great states- 
man and philosopher. 

" I have seen the teacher to-day," said Mr. Frank- 
lin to his wife, two or three months after his son 
entered school, "and he says that he is making 
rapid progress, and will soon stand first in his class, 
although others have enjoyed much better advan- 
tages." 

'''I am glad to hear it," answered Mrs. Franklin, 
with a satisfied air, such as mothers are likely to 
betray when they know that their children are 
doing well ; " I think he will make a good scholar 



16 • THE PRINTER-BOY. 

if he can have the opportunity, though I scarcely 
see how you will be able to educate him." 

" I can hardly see how myself," said her husband, 
" yet I trust that God will provide a way. At any 
rate, I hope for the best." 

" It will be more and more expensive every year 
to support him," added Mrs. Franklin, "since his 
clothes will cost more as he advances in years. The 
least expense in educating him we are having 
now." 

" That is very true, and I have looked at the 
matter in this light, all the while not being able to 
see my way quite clear, yet trusting to Providence 
for a happy issue." 

" It is well to trust in Providence if it is not done 
blindly, for Providence sometimes does wonders for 
those who trust. It is quite certain that he who 
parted the waters of the Red Sea for the children 
of Israel to pass, and fed them with manna from 
the skies, can provide a way for our Benjamin to be 
educated. But it looks to me as if some of his 
bread would have to drop down from heaven." 

" Well, if it comes, that is enough," responded 
Mr. Franklin, rather dryly. "If God does any- 
thing for him, he will do it in his own time and way. 
I shall be satisfied to see him qualified for useful- 
ness in the service of the Church." 

Within a few months after Benjamin entered 
school, he had advanced from the middle to the 



AT SCHOOL. 17 

head of his class. He was so apt to learn, and 
gave so close attention to his lessons, that his 
teacher spoke of him as a boy of uncommon prom- 
ise. He did not stand at the head of his class long, 
however, before he was transferred to a higher one. 
He so far outstripped his companions that the 
teacher was obliged to advance him thus, otherwise 
his mental progress would have been injuriously 
retarded. His parents were highly gratified with 
his diUgent improvement of time and opportunities, 
and other relatives and friends began to prophesy 
his future eminence. 

It is generally the case that such early attention 
to studies, in connection with the advancement that 
follows, awakens high hopes -of the young in the 
hearts of all observers. Such things foreshadow 
the future character, so that people think they can 
tell what the man will be from what the boy is. So 
it was with young Benjamin Franklin. So it was 
with Daniel Webster,— his mother inferred from 
his close attention to reading, and his remarkable 
progress in learning, that he would become a distin- 
guished man, and so expressed herself to others. 
She lived to see him rise in his profession, until he 
became a member of Congress, though she died 
before he reached the zenith of his renown. The 
same was true of David Rittenhouse, the famous 
mathematician. When he was but eight years old 
he constructed various articles, such as a perfect 



18 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

miniature water-wheel, and at seventeen years of 
age he made a complete clock. His younger 
brother relates that he was accustomed to stop 
when he was ploughing in the field, and solve prob- 
lems on the fence, and sometimes cover the plough- 
handles over with figures. The highest expecta-. 
tions of his friends were more than realized in his 
after life. The peculiar genius which he exhibited 
in his boyhood gave him his world-wide fame at last. 
Also, George Stephenson, the great engineer, the 
son of a very poor man, who fired the engine at the 
Wylam Colliery, began his life-labor when a mere 
boy. Besides watching the cows, and barring the 
gates at night after the coal-wagons had passed, at 
four cents a day, he amused himself during his leis- 
ure moments in making clay engines, in imitation 
of that which his father tended. Although he lived 
in such humble circumstances that he was almost 
entirely unnoticed, yet it would have been apparent 
to any observer, that his intense interest in, and 
taste for, such mechanical work, evinced what the 
future man would be. 

It was quite natural, then, for the parents and 
friends of Benjamin Franklin to be encouraged by 
his love of books, and diligent attention, especially 
when so much intellectual brightness was also man- 
ifest. The sequel will prove whether their hopes 
were wisely cherished. 



III. 

A CHANGE. 

BENJAMIN HAD not been in school quite a 
year, when his father saw plainly that he 
would not be able to defray the expense of edu- 
cating him. 

" I might keep him along for the present," said 
he to his wife, "but I am satisfied that I cannot 
carry him through. My family expenses are now 
very great, and they will be still larger. It will 
make considerable difference in my expenses whether 
Benjamin is kept at school, or assists me by the labor 
of his hands." 

" I am not surprised at all at your conclusion," 
replied Mrs. Franklin. " It is no more than I have 
expected, as I have before intimated. Parents must 
be better off than we are to be able to send a son to 
college." 

" If they have as many children to support, you 
might add," said Mr. Franklin. " I could easily 
accomplish it with no larger family on my hands 
than some of my neighbors have." 

" Do you intend to take Benjamin out of school 
at once ? " 



20 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" Yes ! I have very reluctantly come to the con 
elusion that I must. It is contrary to all my desires, 
but necessity compels me to do it." 

" I am sorry for Benjamin," continued Mrs. Frank- 
lin, " for he has become much interested in his 
school, and it will be a great disappointment to 
him." 

" I thought of that much before coming to 
my present decision ; but there is no alternative. 
Providence seems to indicate, now, the course I 
should take, and I am the more willing to follow, 
because the times do not hold out so much en- 
couragement to those who would enter the service 
of the Church. There are many trials and hard- 
ships to be met in the work, and, at the present 
day, they seem to be peculiar." 

" There are trials almost anywhere in these 
times," said Mrs. Franklin, '' and I suppose we 
ought to bear them with fortitude. So far as that 
is concerned, I think Benjamin will not escape them, 
let him follow what business he may." 

"True, very true, and I trust that I desire to 
place him where God would have me ; but he has 
certainly hedged up his way to the ministry." 

This subject was very thoroughly considered be- 
fore it was opened to Benjamin. His father was 
too anxious to educate him to change his purpose 
without much patient thought and circumspection. 
Nothing but absolute necessity induced him to come 



A CHANGE. 21 

to this decision. The hard hand of poverty was laid 
upon him, and he must have " bread before learn- 
ing" for his children. 

One evening, as the term of school was drawing 
to a close, Mr. Franklin said to Benjamin, — 

" I think I shall be under the necessity of taking 
you out of school at the close of the term. The 
times are so hard, that I find, with my best exer- 
tions, I can do little more than supply you with 
food and clothes." 

" And not go to school any more ? " anxiously 
inquired Benjamin. 

" Perhaps not. Such appears to be your prospect 
now, though I cannot say that God may not open a 
way hereafter : I hope he will. You are but nine 
years old, and there is time yet for a way to be pro- 
vided."' 

" Why can I not attend school till I am old 
enough to help you ? " 

" You are old enough to help me now. I could 
find a plenty for you to do every day, so that you 
could make yourself very useful." 

In those days boys were put to work much earlier 
than they are now. They had very small oppor- 
tunities for acquiring knowledge, and the boys who 
did not go to school after they were ten years old 
were more in number than those who did. Besides, 
the schools were very poor in comparison with those 
of the present age. They offered very limited ad- 



22 THE PRINTER-BOY, 

vantages to the young. It was not unusual, there- 
fore, for lads as young as Benjamin to be made to 
work. 

" But I do not intend to set you to work imme- 
diately,'' continued Mr. Franklin. " You ought to 
give some attention to penmanship and arithmetic, 
and I shall send you to Mr. Brownwell's writing- 
school for a season." 

"I shall like that, for I want to know how to 
write well. Some of the boys no older than I am 
have been to his school some time." 

" It is equally important that you learn to cipher, 
and Mr. Brownwell is an excellent teacher of arith- 
metic. It will not take you many months to become 
a good penman under his tuition, and to acquire 
considerable knowledge of numbers." 

" I care more about writing than I do about arith- 
metic,'' said Benjamin. " I don't think I shall like 
arithmetic very well." 

" Boys have to study some things they don't like,'* 
responded his father. " It is the only way they can 
quaUfy themselves for usefulness. You would not 
make much of an appearance in the world without 
some acquaintance with numbers." 

" I know that," said Benjamin ; " and I shall try 
to master it, even if I do not like it. I am willing' 
to do what you think is best." 

" I hope you will always be as willing to yield to 
my judgment. It is a good sign for a boy to accept 



A CHANGE. 



23 



cheerfully the plans of liis father, who has had more 
experience." 

Benjamin was generally very prompt to obey his 
parents, even when he did not exactly see the neces- 
sity of their commands. He understood full well 
that obedience was a law of the household, which 
could not be violated with impunity ; therefore he 
wisely obeyed. His father was a religious man, 
quite puritanical in his views and habits, and conse- 
quently disposed to be somewhat exact in his re- 
quirements. Among other things, he required his 
children to observe the Sabbath by abstaining from 
labor and amusements, reading the Scriptures, and 
attending pubhc worship. A walk in the streets, a 
call upon a youthful friend, or the reading of books 
not strictly religious, on Sunday, was never toler- 
ated in his family. A child might wish to stay away 
from the house of God on the Sabbath, but he did 
. not permit it. " Going to meeting " was one of the 
rules of the family. 

Benjamin was reared under such family regu- 
lations. He was expected to regard them with 
becoming fiUal respect. Nor did he grow restless 
and impatient under them, nor cherish less affec- 
tion for his father in consequence. We have no 
reason to believe that he sought to evade them ; and 
there is no doubt that the influence of such disci- 
pline was good in forming his character. He cer- 
tainly loved and respected his father as long as he 



24 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

lived. Many years thereafter, when his father was 
old and infirm, he was wont to perform frequent 
journeys from Philadelphia to Boston, to visit him. 
It was on one of these journeys that he rebuked 
the inquisitiveness of a landlord, by requesting him, 
as soon as he entered his tavern, to assemble all the 
members of his family together, as he had some- 
thing important to communicate. The landlord 
proceeded to gratify him, and as soon as they were 
brought together in one room, he said, " My name 
is Benjamin Franklin ; I am a printer by trade ; I 
live, when at home, in Philadelphia; in Boston I 
have a father, a good old man, who taught me, 
when I was a boy, to read my book, and say my 
prayers ; I have ever since thought it was my duty 
to visit and pay my respects to such a father, and 
I am on that errand to Boston now. This is all I 
can recollect at present of myself that I think worth 
telling you. But if you can think of anything else 
that you wish to know about me, I beg you to out 
with it at once, that I may answer, and so give you 
an opportunity to get mo something to eat, for I 
long to be on my journey that I may return as soon 
as possible to my family and business, "where I most 
of all delight to be." This was a keen rebuke to 
a landlord who was disposed to be inquisitive, and 
interrogate his guests in an ungentlemanly way. 
But we have cited the incident to show that the 
filial love and respect which Benjamin had for his 



A CHAJraE. 26 

parents continued as long as they lived. The last 
act of affection and reverence that lie could possibly 
perform to them was cheerfully made. It was the 
erection of a marble stone over their remains in 
Boston, bearing the following inscription: 

JosiAH Franklin 

And 

Abiah his wife 

Lie here interred. 

They lived lovingly together in wedlock 

Fifty-five years ; 

And without an estate, or any gainful employment, 

By constant labor, and honest industry 

(With Gk)d's blessing) 

Maintained a large family comfortably ; 

And brought up thirteen children and seven grandchildren 

Reputably. 

From this instance, reader, 

Be encouraged to diligence in thy calling, 

And distrust not Providence. 

He was a pious and prudent man, 

She a discreet and virtuous woman. 

Their youngest son. 

In filial regard to their memory, 

Places this stone. 

J. F. born 1655; died 1744. ^t. 89. 

A. F. born 1667 ; died 1752. ^t. 85." 

This stone had become so dilapidated in 1827, 
that the citizens of Boston supplied its place with a 
granite obelisk, on which the foregoing inscription 
may still be read. ^ 
2 



28 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

Is is good for boys, who are very likely to waut 
their own way, to be obliged to obey exact rules in 
the family. It is a restraint upon their evil tenden- 
cies that tells well upon their riper years. It was 
to such an influence that Sir Robert Peel felt much 
indebted for his success in life. As an illustration 
of the obedience he was obliged to practise, in com- 
mon with his brothers, he relates, that, in his youth, 
a comrade called one day to solicit their company 
upon some excursion. He was a young man of 
handsome address, intelligent, smart, and promis- 
ing, though quite accustomed to enjoy much pas- 
time. He was a fashionable young man for the 
times, wearing " dark brown hair, tied behind with 
blue ribbon ; clear, mirthful eyes ; boots which 
reached above his knees ; a broad-skirted, scarlet 
coat, with gold lace on the cuffs, the collar, and 
the skirts ; and a long waistcoat of blue silk. His 
breeches were buckskin ; his hat was three-cornered, 
set jauntily higher on the right than on the left 
Bide.'' His name was Harry Garland. To his re- 
quest that William, Edmund, and Robert might go 
with him, their father replied, " No, they cannot 
go out." Although the boys earnestly desired to 
go, they dared say nothing against their father's 
emphatic " No." He had work for them to do, 
and he never allowed pleasure to usurp the time 
for labor. The result is recorded on the page of 
English history. The three brothers of the Peel 



A CHANGE. 27 

family became renowned in their country's bril- 
liant progress. Harry Garland, the idle, foppish 
youth, became a ruined spendthrift. In this way 
the language of inspiration is verified. " Honor thy 
father and mother (which is the first commandment 
with promise), that it may be well witli thee." The 
providence of God appears to make it well with the 
children who obey the commandment. Not the 
least of their reward is the respect and confidence 
of mankind which their obedience secures. Men 
universally admire to witness deeds that are prompt- 
ed by true filial love. Such an act as that of the 
great engineer, George Stephenson, who took the 
first one hundred and sixty dollars he possessed, 
saved from a year's wages, and paid off his blind 
old father's debts, and then removed both father 
and mother to a comfortable tenement at Killing- 
worth, where he supported them by the labor of 
his hands, awakens our admiration, and leads us to 
expect that the Divine blessing will rest upon the 
author. 

When the statue of Franklin was inaugurated, in 
1856, a barouche appeared in the procession that 
carried eight brothers, all of whom received Frank- 
lin medals at the Mayhew School in their boyhood, 
sons of the late Mr. John Hall. They were all 
known to fame for their worth of character and 
wide influence. As the barouche in which they 
rode came into State Street, from Merchants' Row. 



28 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

these brothers all rose up in the carriage, uncovered 
their heads, and thus remained while passing a win 
dow at which their excellent and revered mother 
sat, — an act of filial regard so impressive and beau- 
tiful as to fill the hearts of beholders with profound 
respect for the affectionate sons. They never per- 
formed a more noble deed, in the public estimation, 
than this one of reverence for a worthy parent. 

Benjamin was taken out of school, agreeably to 
his father's decision, and sent to Mr. Brown well, to 
perfect himself in arithmetic and penmanship. Less 
than a year he had attended the grammar-school, 
with little or no prospect of returning to his studies. 
But the disappointment was somewhat alleviated by 
the advantages offered at Mr. Brownwell's writing 
class. Here he made rapid progress in penmanship, 
though he failed in mastering the science of num- 
bers. He had more taste, and perhaps tact, for pen- 
manship than he had for arithmetical rules and 
problems, and this may account for the difference 
of his improvement in the two branches. 

We should have remarked that Benjamin en- 
deared himself to his teacher while he was a 
member of the public school, and it was with re- 
giGi that the latter parted with his studious pupil. 
His close attention to his duties, and his habitual 
good deportment, in connection with his progress, 
made him such a scholar as teachers love. 



IV. 

MAKING CANDLES. 

WHEN BENJAMIN was ten years old he had 
acquired all the education his father thought 
he could afford to give him. He could write a very 
good hand, and read fluently, though his knowledge 
of arithmetic was very limited indeed. 

" Are you about ready, Benjamin, to come into 
the shop and help me ? " inquired his father, at the 
dinner-table. 

" Am I not going to Mr. Brownwell's school any 
longer ? " he asked, instead of replying to his fa- 
ther's question, — a Yankee-like way of doing things, 
truly. 

" I think the close of this term will complete the 
education I am able to give you," replied his father. 
" You will fare, then, better than your brothers, in 
respect to schooling." 

" I rather not go into the shop," said Benjamin. 
"I think I shall not like to make candles, and I 
really wish you would engage in some other busi- 
ness." 

" And starve, too," said his father, " In such 



80 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

times as these we must be willing to do what will 
insure us a livelihood. I know of no other Ifiisi- 
ness that would give me a living at present, cer- 
tainly none that I am qualified to pursue." 

Mr. Franklin was a dyer by trade, in England, 
and designed to continue it when he removed to 
this country, about the year 1685. But he found, 
on arriving at Boston, that it would be quite impos- 
sible for him to support his family at this trade. 
The country was new, and the habits of the people 
were different from those of the English, so that the 
dyeing business could receive but little patronage. 
The next pursuit that presented itself, with fair 
promises of success, was that of *' tallow-chandler 
and soap-boiler," — not so cleanly and popular a 
business as some, but yet necessary to be done, and 
very useful in its place ; and this was enough for 
such a man as Mr. Franklin to know. He cared 
very little whether the trade was popular, so long 
as it was indispensable and useful. To him no 
business was dishonorable, if the wants of society 
absolutely demanded it. 

" Well, I should rather make soap and candles 
than starve," said Benjamin ; " but nothing else 
could make me willing to follow the business." 

" One other thing ought to make you willing to 
do such work," added his father. " You had better 
do this than to do nothing, for idleness is the parent 
of vice. Boys like you should be industrious, even 



MAKING CANDLES. 31 

if they do not earn their bread. It is better for 
them to work for notliing than not to work at all." 

" I think they better save their strength till they 
can earn something," said Benjamin. " People 
must like to work better than I do, to work for 
nothing." 

" You do not understand me," continued Mr. 
Franklin. " I mean to say, it is so important for the 
young to form industrious habits, that they better 
work for nothing than to be idle. If they are idle 
when they are young, they will be so when they be- 
come men, and idleness will finally be their ruin. 
' The Devil tempts all other men, but idle men tempt 
the Devil,' is an old and truthful proverb, and I hope 
you will never consent to verify it." 

Mr. Franklin had been a close observer all his life, 
and he had noticed that industry was characteristic 
of those who accomplished anytliing commendable. 
Consequently he insisted that his children should 
have employment. He allowed no drones in his 
family hive. All had something to do as soon as 
they were old enough to toil. Under such influences 
Benjamin was reared, and he grew up to be as much 
in love with industry as his father was. Some of his 
best counsels, and most interesting sayings, when he 
became a man, related to this subject. The follow- 
ing are among the maxims which he uttered in his 
riper years : — 

" Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than laboi 
wears ; while the used key is always bright." 



32 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" But dost thou love life ? Then do not squan- 
der time, for that is the stuff life is made of." 

" If time be of all things the most precious, wast- 
ing time must be the greatest prodigality." 

*' Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all 
easy ; and he that riseth late must trot all day, and 
shall scarce overtake his business at night ; while 
laziness travels so slowly, that poverty soon over- 
takes him." 

" At the working-man's house hunger looks in, 
but dares not enter." 

" Diligence is the mother of good luck, and God 
gives all things to industry." 

" One to-day is worth two to-morrows." 

" Drive thy business, let not thy business drive 
thee." 

" God helps them that help themselves." 

These are very beautiful and expressive sentences, 
and they show that Benjamin Franklin thought as 
much of industry in his manhood as his father did 
a quarter of a century before. Take the first, in 
which he compares slothfulness to rust, which will 
consume iron tools or machinery faster than their 
constant use will. As the use of a hoe or spade 
keeps it polished, so the habitual exercise of the 
powers of human nature preserves them in a gooji 
condition. A key that is cast aside soon rusts, and 
is spoiled, but "the used key is always bright." It 
is more fit for use because it has been used. 



MAKING CANDLES. 33 

How true it is that " hunger dares not enter the 
working-man's house"! By the sweat of his brow 
he earns his daily bread, and his children do not cry 
with hunger. It is the lazy man's table that has no 
bread. His children rise up hungry, and go to bed 
supperless. God himself hath said, " If any would 
not work, neither should he eat." 

" Diligence is the mother of good luck." An- 
other gem of wisdom that commands our acquies- 
cence. How common for the indolent to complain 
of " bad luck " ! Their families need the necessaries 
of life, as both a scanty table and rent apparel bear 
witness, and they cast the blame upon "ill luck," 
" misfortune," '' unavoidable circumstances," or 
something of the kind. Many men whose faces are 
reddened and blotched by intemperance, begotten 
in the bar-room where they have worse than idled 
away days and weeks of precious time, are often 
heard to lament over their " bad luck," as if their 
laziness and intemperance were not the direct cause 
of their misery. But it is not often that the dihgent 
experience "bad luck." They receive a reward 
for their labors, and thrift and honor attend their 
steps, according as it is written in the Bible : " The 
soul of the sluggard desircth, and Itath notliing; 
but the soul of the diligent shall be made fat. 
Seest thou a man diligent in his business ? he shall 
stand before kings; he shall not stand before 



34 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

But we need not enlarge upon these sayings of 
Franklin. They are all charged with wisdom, and 
might be expanded into volumes. The more we 
study them, the more beauty we perceive. 

It was settled that Benjamin should assist his 
father in the manufacture of candles, notwithstand- 
ing his disinclination to engage in the business. 
His prospects of more schooling were thus cut off 
at ten years of age, and now he was obliged to turn 
his attention to hard work. It was rather an un- 
promising future to a little boy. No more school- 
ing after ten years of age ! What small opportu- 
nities in comparison with those enjoyed by nearly 
every boy at the present day ! Now they are just 
beginning to learn at this early age. From ten 
they can look forward to six or eight years of gold- 
en opportunities in the school-room. Does the 
young reader appreciate the privileges which he 
enjoys ? 

" To-morrow for the work-shop, Benjamin ! " ex- 
claimed Mr. Franklin, with a tone of pleasantry, on 
the evening before he was initiated into the myste- 
ries of making candles. " I am full of business, and 
need another hand very much at present." 
- "You can't expect much help from me," said 
Benjamin, " till I learn how to do the work. So I 
am thinking you will continue to be hurried for a 
while, unless you have another hand besides me." 

" You can do what I shall set you about just as 



MAKING CAXPLES. 3o 

well as a boy, or even a man, who had worked at 
the business for a year." 

" I wonder what that can be, that is so easy ! " 
added Benjamin with some surprise. 

" You can cut the wicks, fill the moulds for cast- 
candles, keep the shop in order, run hither and 
thither upon errands, and do other things that will 
save my time, and thus assist me just as much as a 
man could in doing the same things." 

" I am sure," said Mrs. Franklin, who had been 
listening to the conversation attentively, "that is 
inducement enough for any boy, but a lazy one, to 
work. You can make yourself about as useful to 
your father as a man whom he would have to pay 
high wages." 

" You will aid me just as much in going of er- 
rands," said his father, " as in doing anything else. 
I have a good deal of such running to do, and ii 
you do it, I can be employed in the more important 
part of my business, which no one else can attend 
to. Besides, your nimble feet can get over the 
ground much quicker than my older and clumsier 
ones, so that you 'can really perform this part of the 
business better than I can myself." 

Benjamin made no reply to these last remarks, 
although he was more favorably impressed, after 
hearing them, with the tallow-chandler's calling. 
On the following day he entered upon his new voca- 
tion, and, if " variety is the spice of life," then his 



36 THE PRINTER-BOT. 

first day in the shop had a plenty of spice. The 
shop was situated at the corner of Hanover and 
Union Streets, having the sign of a large blue Ball, 
bearing the inscription : 

1698 JosiAS 

Franklin 1698. 
He cut wicks, filled moulds, performed errands, and 
played the part of general waiter, in which there 
was much variety. And this was his work for suc- 
cessive weeks, very little of his time running to 
waste. Do you ask how he likes it ? The follow- 
ing conversation with his mother will answer. 

"I don't like it at all, mother, — no better than 
I thought I should," he said. " I wish I could do 
something else." 

" What else is there for you to do, Benjamin ? " 
replied his mother. " What would you like to do ? '* 

" I would like to go to sea." 

" Go to see what ? " she inquired, as if she did not 
understand him at first. 

" Go on a voyage to Europe, or the East Indies." 

" Wliat ! " exclaimed his mother, exhibiting sur- 
prise, for she had not dreamed thai; her son had any 
inclination to go to sea. " Want to be a sailor ? 
What put that into your head ? " 

" I have always thought I should like to go to 
sea," he answered ; " and I am so tired of making 
candles that I want to go now more than ever." 

" I am astonished, Benjamin. You might know 



MAKING CANDLES. 37 

that I should never give my consent to that. 1 
should almost as lief bury you. And how can 
you want to leave your good home, and all your 
friends, to live in a ship, exposed to storms and 
death all the time ? " 

" It is not because I do not love my home and 
friends, but I have a desire to sail on a voyage to 
some other country. I like the water, and nothing 
would suit me so well as to be a cabin-boy." 

" There, Benjamin, you must never say another 
word about it," continued his mother ; " and you 
must not think any more about going ; for I shall 
never give my consent, and I know your father never 
will. It was almost too much for me when your 
brother broke away from us, and went to sea. I 
could not pass through another such trial. So you 
must not persist in your wish, if you would not send 
me down to the grave." And here his mother al- 
luded to one of the most bitter experiences of her 
life, when a son older than Benjamin became rest- 
less at home, and would not be persuaded from his 
purpose of going to sea. It caused her many un- 
happy hours. 

Benjamin had said nothing about this matter to 
his father, and this prompt veto of his mother put a 
damper on his hopes, so that he continued to work 
at the shop, with all his dislike for the business. 
His parents talked over the matter, and his father 
was led thereby to watch him more carefully, that 



38 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

he might nip the first buddings of desire for the sor*.. 
At length, however, Benjamin ventured to make 
known his wishes to his father. 

" I have thought," said ho, " that I should like to 
go to sea, if you are willing ;" and there he stopped, 
evidently expecting to be refused. 

'' What has happened to lead you to desire this ? " 
inquired his father. 

" Not anything," he answered. " I always thought 
I should like it, — though I have had a stronger 
desire lately." 

" I see how it is," continued his father. " You 
have been to the water with the boys frequently of 
late, and I have noticed that you loved to be in a 
boat better than to make candles. I am afraid that 
your sports on the water are making you dissatisfied 
with your home, and that here is the secret of your 
wanting to go to sea." * 

"No, father ; I think as much of my home as I 
ever did, and I like a boat no better now than I did 
the first time I got into one." 

" Perhaps it is so ; but boys don't always know 
when they are losing their attachment to home. 
You need not say another syllable, however, about 
going to sea, for I shall never consent to it. You 
may as well relinquish at once all thought of going, 
since I strictly forbid your laying any such plans. 
If you do not wish to be a tallow-chandler, you may 
try some other business. I shall not insist upon 



MAKING CANDLES. 39 

your working with me, though I shall insist upon 
your following some calling." 

" I shall not want to go to sea against your 
wishes," said Benjamin. " I only thought I would 
go if you and mother were perfectly willing. I can 
work at this dirty trade, too, if you think it is best, 
though I can never like it." 

" I am glad to see that you have so much regard 
for your parents' wishes.," said his father. " If your 
brother had been as considerate, he never would 
have become a sailor. Children should always re- 
member that their parents know best, as they have 
had more experience and time to observe. I say 
again, if you will abandon all thoughts of a seafaring 
life, I wiU try to find you a situation to learn some 
trade you may choose for yourself." 

Benjamin was not disposed to enter upon a sail- 
or's life contrary to his parents' counsels, and he 
submitted to his father's decision with as much 
cheerfulness and good feeling as could be expected 
in the* circumstances. He knew that it was little 
use to tease his father when he said "no" to a 
project. His emphatic •' no" usually put an end to 
all controversy. 

There is little doubt that Benjamin had been 
somew^hat influenced by his frolics in and on the 
w^ater. For some time, as opportunity offered, he 
had been down to the water both to bathe and take 
boat-rides. He had become an expert swimmer in 



40 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

a very short time, and not one of the boys so read- 
ily learned to manage a boat. He exhibited so 
much tact in these water feats, that he was usually 
regarded as a leader by the boys, and all matters of 
importance were referred to his judgment. It was 
not strange that he should be more in love with an 
ocean life after such pastimes with his comrades. 
Whether he admitted it or not, it is probable that 
his desire to go to sea was greatly increased by 
these pleasant times in and on the water. 

It was certainly a poor prospect that was before 
the young tallow-chandler. It was not a trade to 
call into exercise the higher and nobler faculties of 
the mind and heart. On that account, no one could 
expect that Benjamin would rise to much distinc- 
tion in the world ; and this will serve to awaken the 
reader's surprise as he becomes acquainted with the 
sequel. A little fellow, ten or twelve years of age, 
cutting the wicks of candles, and filling the moulds, 
does not promise to become a great statesman and 
philosopher. Yet, with no more promise than this, 
some of the most distinguished men commenced 
their career. Behold Giotti, as he tends his father's 
flock, tracing the first sketches of the divine art in 
the sand with a clumsy stick, — a deed so unimpor- 
tant that it foreshadowed to no one his future emi- 
nence. See Daniel Webster, the great expounder 
of the American Constitution, sitting, in his boy- 
hood, upon a log in his father's mill, and studying 



MAKING GANDLKS. 41 

portions of that Constitution which were printed 
upon a new pocket-handkerchief; a trivial incident 
at the time, but now bearing an important relation 
to that period of his life when his fame extended to 
every land. Recall the early life of Roger Sher- 
man, bound as an apprentice to a shoemaker in 
consequence of his father's poverty, with little edu- 
^cation and no ancestral fame to assist him, — how 
exceeding small the promise that his name would 
yet be prominent in his country's history ! In like 
manner, the little candle-making lad of Boston, in 
1717, scarcely appears to be related to the philoso- 
pher and statesman of the same name, in 1775. 
But the hand of God is in the lives of men as 
really as in the history of nations. 

The reader should not make use of the fact that 
Franklin, and other eminent men, enjoyed small 
opportunities to acquire knowledge, as a plea that 
he himsejf need not be kept in school for a series of 
years. We have heard of one lad who concluded, 
after reading " The Bobbin Boy," that it is useless 
to go to school so much ; as if the boy who rose from 
poverty and obscurity to a post of honor fared bet- 
ter than he would have done with higher culture in 
early life. It is true that a little mental improve- 
ment may work wonders for a person in some cir- 
cumstances, and it should lead us to inquire, if a 
little will accomplish so much, wliat will greater 
advantages do for him ? A very little knowledge of 



r 



42 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

electricity once saved the life of Benjamin Russell 
in his youth. He was an eminent citizen of Boston, 
born in the year 1761, and in his younger years he 
had learned from the writings of Franklin, who had 
become a philosopher, that it was dangerous to take 
shelter, during a thunder-shower, under a tree, or 
in a building not protected with lightning-rods. 
One day, in company with several associates, he was 
overtaken by a tempest, and some of the number 
proposed that they should take shelter under a large 
tree near by, while others advised to enter a neigh- 
boring barn. But young - Bussell opposed both 
plans, and counselled going under a large projecting 
rock as the safest place. The result showed that a 
little knowledge of electricity was of great service 
to him ; for both the barn and the tree were struck 
by lightning. But neither Benjamin Russell, nor 
any one else, from that day to this, would think 
of saying that there is no need of knowing much 
about electricity, since a little knowledge of it will 
do so much good. They might say it as reasonably, 
however, as a youth can say that there is no need of 
much schooling, since " The Bobbin Boy," Benja- 
min Franklin, and others, became honored and use- 
ful though they did not go to school after ten or 
twelve years of age. The deep regret of all tliis 
class of influential men ever has been, that their 
early advantages were so limited. George Stephen- 
son, who did not learn to read until lie was eighteen 



MAKING CANDLES. 43 

years old, felt so keenly on this point, that, when his 
own son became old enough to attend school, he 
sat up nights and mended the shoes and clocks of 
his neighbors, after having completed his day's 
labor, to obtain the means of educating him. 



THE KOGTJE'S WHAEF. 

" 4 LL ABOAED ! " exclaimed Benjamin, and 
-/JL so saying he bounded into the boat that 
lay at the water's edge. " Now for a ride ; only 
hurry up, and make the oars fly ; " and several boys 
leaped in after him from the shaking, trampled quag- 
mire on which they stood. 

" We shall be heels over head in mud yet," said 
one of the number, " unless we try to improve the 
marsh. There is certainly danger that we shall go 
through that shaky place, and I scarcely know when 
we shall stop, if we begin to go down." 

" Let us build a wharf," said Benjamin, " and 
that will get rid of the quagmire. It won't be a 
long job, if all take hold." 

" Where will you get your lumber ? " inquired 
Jolm. 

" Nowhere. We don't want any lumber, for stones 
are better," answered Benjamin. 

" It is worse yet to bring stones so far, and enough 
of them," added John. " You must like to lift better 
than I do, to strain your gizzard in tugging stones 
here." 




% 



THE ROGUE'S WHARF. 45 

" Look there," continued Benjamin, pointing to a 
neap of stones only a few rods distant. " There are 
stones enough for our purpose, and one or two hours 
s all the time we want to build a wharf with them." 

" But those stones belong to the man who is pre- 
parhig to build a house there," said Fred. "The 
workmen are busy there now." 

" That may all be," said Benjamin, " but they can 
afford to lend them to us awhile. They will be just 
as good for their use after we have done with them." 

" Then you expect they will loan them to you, I 
perceive ; but I guess you '11 be mistaken," answered 
Fred. 

" My mode of borrowing them is tliis, — we will 
go this evening, after the workmen have gone home, 
and tug them over here, and make the wharf long 
before bedtime;" and Benjamin looked queerly as 
he said it. 

" And get ourselves into trouble thereby," replied 
another boy. " I will agree to do it if you will bear 
all the blame of stealing them." 

" Stealing ! " exclaimed Benjamin. "It is not 
stealing to take such worthless things as stones. A 
man could n't sell an acre of them for a copper." 

" Well, anyhow, the men who have had the labor 
of drawing them there won't thank you for takii^g 
them." 

" I don't ask them to thank me. I don't thhik 
the act deserves any thanks," and a roguish twinkle 



46 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

of the eye showed that he knew he was doing wrong. 
And he added, " I reckon it will be a joke on the 
workmen to-morrow morning to find their pile of 
stones missing." 

" Let us do it," said John, who was taken with 
the idea of playing off a joke. " I will do my part to 
carry the thing through." 

" And I will do mine," said another ; and by this 
time all were willing to follow the example of Benja- 
min, their leader. Perhaps all were afraid to say 
*^ No," according to the dictates of conscience, now 
that the enterprise was indorsed by one or two of 
their number. Boys are quite disposed to go " with 
die multitude to do evil." They are too cowardly 
CO do what they know is right. 

The salt marsh, bounding a part of the mill-pond 
tvhere their boat lay, was trampled into a complete 
quagmire. The boys were accustomed to fish there 
it high water, and so many feet, so often treading 
on the spot, reduced it to a very soft condition. It 
<vas over this miry marsh that they proposed to 
build a wharf. 

The evening was soon there, and the boys came 
together on their rogue's errand. They surveyed the 
pile of stones, and found it ample for their purpose, 
though it looked like a formidable piece of work to 
move them. 

" Some of them are bigger than two of us can 
lift," said Fred. 



THE EOGUE'S WHARF. 47 

" Then three of us caii hitch to and carry them," 
saii Benjamin. " They must all be worked into a 
wharf this evenmg. Let us begin, — there is no 
time to lose." 

" The largest must go first," said Jolm. " They 
are capital ones for the foundation. Come, two or 
three must take hold of this," at the same time lay- 
ing hold of one of the largest. 

So they went to work with decided perseverance, 
(the only commendable thing about the transac- 
tion,) sometimes three or four of them working 
away at one stone, lifting and rolling it along. 
Benjamin was never half so zealous in cutting can- 
dle-wicks as he was in perpetrating this censurable 
act. He was second to no one of the number in 
cheerful active service on this occasion. 

The evening was not spent when the last stone 
was carried away, and the wharf was finished, — a 
work of art that answered their purpose very well, 
though it was not quite so imposing as Commercial 
Wharf is now, and was not calculated to receive the 
cargo of a very large Liverpool packet. 

" What a capital place it makes for fishing ! " 
exclaimed Fred. " It is worth all it cost for 
that." 

" Perhaps it will cost more than you think for 
before we get through with it," said John. " We 
can tell better about that when the workmen find 
their stones among the missing." 



48 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" I should like to hear what they will say," re- 
sponded Benjamin, " when they discover what we 
have done, though I hardly think they will pay us 
much of a compliment. But I must hurry home, 
or I shall have trouble there. Come on, boys, let 
us go." 

At this they hastened to their homes, not design- 
ing to make known the labors of the evening, if 
they could possibly avoid interrogation. They knew 
that their parents would disapprove of the deed, 
and that no excuse could shield them from merited 
censure. It was not strange, then, that they were 
both afraid and ashamed to tell of what they had 
done. But we will let twenty-four hours pass. On 
the following evening, when Mr. Franklin took Ms 
seat at his fireside, Benjamin had taken his book 
and was reading. 

" Benjamin," said his father, " where was you 
last evening ? " 

Benjamin knew by his father's anxious look that 
there was trouble. He imagined that he had heard 
of their enterprise on the previous evening. After 
some hesitation, he answered, " I was down to the 
water." 

" What was you doing there ? " 

" We were fixing up a place for the boat." 

" See that you tell the truth, Benjamin, and 
withhold nothing. I wish to know what you did 
there." 



THE ROGUE'S WHARF. 49 

" We built a wharf." 

" What had you to build it with ? " 

" We built it of stones." 

" And where did you get your stones ? " 

" There was a pile of them close by." 

" Did they belong to you ? " 

" I suppose not." 

" Did you not know that they belonged to the 
man who is building the house ? " 

" Yes sir." 

" Then you deliberately resolved to steal them, 
did you ? " 

" It is n't stealing to take stones." 

" Why, then, did you take them in the evening, 
after the workmen had gone home ? Why did you 
not go after them when the workmen were all 
there ? " 

Benjamin saw that he was fairly caught, and that, 
bright as he was, he could not get out of so bad a 
scrape unblamed. So he hung his head, and did 
not answer his father's last question. 

" I see plainly how it is," continued his father ; 
" it is the consequence of going out in the evening 
with the boys, which I must hereafter forbid. I 
have been wilUng that you should go out some, be- 
cause I have thought it might be better for you 
than so much reading. But you have now be- 
trayed my confidence, and I am satisfied more than 
ever that boys should be at home in the evening, 
3 D 



60 THE PEINTER-BOY. 

trying to improve their minds. You have been 
guilty of an act that is quite flagrant, although it 
may have been done thoughtlessly. You should 
have known better, after having received so much 
good instruction as you have had at home." 

" I did know better," frankly confessed Benja- 
min. 

" And that makes your guilt so much the great- 
er," added his father. " Do you think you will 
learn a lesson from this, and never do the like 
again ? " 

" I will promise that I never will." 

Thus frankly did Benjamin confess his wrong, 
and ever after look upon that act with regret. 
In mature age he referred to it, and called it one 
of the first evil acts of his life. It was the second 
time he paid too dear for his whistle. 

It seems that the workmen missed their stones, 
when they first reached the spot in the morning, 
and they soon discovered them nicely laid into a 
wharf. The proprietor was indignant, and exerted 
himself to learn who were the authors of the deed, 
and in the course of the day he gained the informa- 
tion, and went directly, and very properly, to their 
parents, to enter complaint. Thus all the boys 
were exposed, and received just rebuke for their 
misdemeanor. Benjamin was convinced, as he said 
of it many years afterward, " that that which is not 
honest, could not be truly useful." 



THE ROGUE'S WHARF. 51 

We have referred to Benjamin's habit of reading. 
It had been his custom to spend his evenings, and 
other leisure moments, in reading. He was much 
pleased with voyages, and such writings as John 
Bunyaa's. The first books he possessed were the 
works of Bunyan, in separate little volumes. After 
becoming famiUar with them, he sold them m order 
to obtain the means to buy "Burton's Historical 
Collections," which were small, cheap books, forty 
volumes m aU. His father, also, possessed quite a 
good number of books for those times, when books 
were rare, and these he read through, although most 
of them were really beyond his years, being contro- 
versial writings upon theology. His love of readmg 
was so great, that he even read works of this charac- 
ter with a degree of mterest. In the library, how- 
ever were three or four books of somewhat different 
character. There was " Plutarch's Lives," m which 
he was deeply interested; also Defoe's "Essay on 
Projects." But to no one book was he more in- 
debted than to Dr. Mather's "Essay to do Good. 
Prom this he derived hints and sentiments which 
had a beneficial influence upon his after hfe. He 
said, forty or fifty years afterward, " It gave me a 
turn of thinking that had an mfluence on some 
of the principal future events of my life." And he 
wrote to a son of Cotton Mather, " I have always set 
a greater value on the character of a doer of good, 
than on any other kmd of reputation ; and if I have 



52 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

been, as you seem to think, a useful citizen, the 
public owes the advantage of it to that book." Some 
of the sentiments of the book which particularly im- 
pressed him were as follows : " It is possible that 
the wisdom of a poor man may start a proposal that 
may save a city, save a nation." " A mean (hum- 
ble) mechanic, — who can tell what an engine of 
good he may be, if humbly and wisely applied unto 
it ? " " The remembrance of having been the man 
that first moved a good law, were better than a 
statue erected for one's memory." These, and 
similar thoughts, stimulated his mind to action, 
and really caused him to attempt what otherwise 
would have been impossible. 

K Benjamin had been engaged as usual, in read- 
ing, on that unfortunate evenmg, he would have 
escaped the guilt of an act that turned out to be 
a serious matter rather than a joke. The habit of 
spending leisure hours in poring over books, has 
saved many boys from vice and ruin. Many more 
might have been saved, if they had been so fond of 
books as to stay at home evenings to read. It is an 
excellent habit to form, and tends to preserve the 
character unsullied, while it stores the mind with 
useful knowledge. 

We shall see, as we advance, that Benjamin 
became qu.ite systematic and economical of his 
time, that he might command every moment pos- 
sible to read. The benefit he derived from the 



THE ROGUE'S WHARF, 



53 



exercise when he was young caused him to ad- 
dress the foUowmg letter, many years thereafter, 
to a bright, intelligent girl of his acquaintance. 
The letter, being devoted to " Advice on Read- 
ing-;' is a valuable one to young persons now. 

"I send my good girl the books I mentioned 
to her last night. I beg of her to accept of them 
as a small mark of my esteem and friendsliip. 
They are written in the familiar, easy manner 
for wliich the French are so remarkable, and af- 
ford a good deal of philosophic and practical 
knowledge, unembarrassed with the dry mathe- 
matics used by more exact reasoners, but which 
is apt to discourage young beginners. 

" I would advise you to read with a pen in your 
Hand, and enter in a little book short hints of what 
you find that is curious, or that may be useful ; for 
this will be the best method of imprinting such par- 
ticulars on your memory, where they will be ready 
either for practice on some future occasion, if they 
are matters of utility, or, at least, to adorn and im- 
prove your conversation, if they are rather points ot 
curiosity ; and, as many of the terms of science are 
such as you cannot have met with in your common 
reading, and may therefore be unacquainted with, I 
tliink it would be well for you to have a good dic- 
tionary at hand, to consult immediately when you 
meet with a word you do not comprehend the pre- 
cise meaning of. 



54 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" This may, at first, seem troublesome and inter- 
rupting ; but it is a trouble that will daily diminish, 
as you will daily find less and less occasion for your 
dictionary, as you become more acquainted with the 
terms ; and, in the mean time, you will read with 
more satisfaction, because with more understanding. 
When any point occurs in which you would be glad 
to have further information than your book affords 
you, I beg that you would not in tlie least appre- 
hend that I should think it a trouble to receive and 
answer your questions. It will be a pleasure and 
no trouble. For though I may not be able, out of 
my own little stock of knowledge, to afford you 
what you require, I can easily direct you to the 
books where it may most readily be found. Adieu, 
and believe me ever, my dear friend, 

"B. Frankun." 



VI. 

TABLE-TALK. 

""^ES," REPLIED Mr. Franklin, to the in- 

JL quiry of a friend who was dining with him ; 
" my ancestors were- imired to hardships, and I my- 
self am not altogether a stranger to them. I never 
had but little opportunity to go to school, and have 
always had to work hard for a livelihood." 

" So much the better for you now," replied his 
friend ; " for in this new country, and these hard 
times, you cannot find the support of a large family 
an easy matter." 

" That is true ; but I have never regretted com- 
ing to this country. The liberty of worshipping 
God according to the dictates of conscience, is one 
of the richest blessings, and more than compensates 
for the trial of leaving my native land." 

" Then you experienced the rigors of intolerance 
there, in some measure, did you ? " 

" yes ; my forefathers adhered to the Protestant 
faith through the reign of Mary, and were often in 
great danger from the bitter hatred of the Papists. 
I sometimes wonder that they did not forfeit their 
lives in those days of persecution." 



56 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" I can relate to you one interesting fact," in^>r 
rupted Uncle Benjamin, addressing himself to the 
guest. " Our ancestors possessed an English Bible, 
which they valued highly, of course ; but there was 
danger of losing it, through the craftiness and hostil- 
ity of the Papal powers. They held the Protestant 
Bible in absolute contempt. So, to conceal their 
Bible, at the same time they could enjoy the read- 
ing of it, they ' fastened it open with tapes under 
and within the cover of a joint-stool.' When our 
great-grandfather desired to read it to his family, 
according to his daily custom, ' he placed the joint- 
stool on his knees, and then turned over the leaves 
under the tapes.' While he was reading, one of the 
children was stationed at the door to give the alarm 
If he should see ' the apparitor coming, who was an 
officer of the spiritual court.' If the officer was 
seen approaching, the stool was immediately set 
down upon its feet, and the Bible in this way was 
concealed from view. For a considerable time they 
were obliged to read the Scriptures in this secret 
manner." 

" But your father was not thus persecuted, was 
lie ? " inquired the friend. 

" He was not persecuted to such a degree," an- 
swered Uncle Benjamin, " though he had some ex- 
perience of this kind ; and even brother Josias and 
myself did not escape. Our father's family contin- 
ued in the Church of England till about the end of 



TABLE-TALK. 67 

Charles the Second's reign, when Josias and I joined 
the Nonconformists, and subjected ourselves to much 
contempt." 

"And that is the reason I am in this country 
now," said Mr. Franklin. " We enjoyed few privi- 
leges, and frequently our rehgious meetings were 
disturbed, as they were forbidden by^ law. On this 
account some of my acquaintances resolved to re- 
move to tliis country, and I decided to join them." 
" How long ago was that ? " 
" It was about 1685, so that you will perceive I am 
one of the old settlers of America. I have been here 
long enough to witness many changes, and have no 
ieske to return to my native country. My children 
can scarcely appreciate how much they enjoy, in 
comparison with the experience of their ancestors." 
Benjamm had often heard the last remark, as a 
reminder of his obhgations to be good and useful. 
Indeed, tliis whole tale of persecution he had listened 
to over and over, and had heard his Uncle Benja- 
min tell the story of the Bible and stool a number 
of times. He had come to the conclusion that he 
was faring better than his fatlier did, although he 
did not think his own lot was remarkably flattering. 
This conversation at the dinner-table was a speci- 
men of what frequently occurred there in the line 
of remark. Mr. Franklin was gratified to have some 
intelligent friend at his table with him, that they 
might converse upon some useful topics, for the 
3* 



58 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

benefit of his children. When he had no guest at 
his table, he would call the attention of his children 
to some subject that was suited to improve their 
minds, thinking, at the same time, that it would 
serve to draw off their attention from their humble 
fare. Children are quite apt to find fault with the 
food set before them, and perhaps the reader himself 
has more than once fretted over an unpalatable dish, 
and teased for something else. Sometimes they beg 
for an article of food that is not on the table, declin- 
ing to eat what is furnished for the family. It was 
not so at Mr. Franklin's table. He did not allow 
one of his children to complain of their food, how- 
ever simple it might be ; and his prmcipal method of 
calling off their attention from the quality of their 
victuals was, as we have said, to converse upon 
some sensible theme. Their attention being directed 
to other things, they were seldom troubled about 
their food, and became almost indifferent to the 
kind of food on the table. Benjamin said, in his 
manhood, on referring to this subject : "I am so 
unobservant of it, that to this day I can scarce tell, a 
few hours after dinner, of what dishes it consisted. 
This has been a great convenience to me in travel- 
ling, where my companions have been sometimes 
very unhappy for the want of a suitable gratifica- 
tion of their more delicate, because better instructed 
tastes and appetites." 

The guests of Mr. Franklin being usually intelli- 



TABLE-TALK. 59 

gent, their conversation was instructive to the chil- 
dren, who acquired thereby many valuable items of 
information. The condition and prospects of the 
country, the oppressive measures of the English 
government, and the means of future prosperity, 
were among the topics which they heard discussed. 
Although it seems like a small, unimportant in- 
fluence to bring to bear upon tender childhood, yet 
it left its mark upon their characters. They had 
more interest in the public questions of the day, 
and more general intelligence in consequence. 

It is related of the Washburne family, of which 
four or five brothers occupy posts of political dis- 
tinction in our country, that in their early life their 
father's house was open to ministers, and was some- 
times called ''the minister's hotel." Mr. Wash- 
burne was a great friend of this class, and enjoyed 
their society much. Nearly all the time, some one 
of the ministerial fraternity would be stopping there. 
His sons were thus brought into their society, and 
they listened to long discussions upon subjects of a 
scientific, political, and religious character, though 
public measures received a large share of attention. 
The boys acquired some valuable information by 
listening to their remarks, and this created a desire 
to read and learn more ; and so they were started 
off in a career that bids fair to reflect honor both 
upon themselves and their country. Their early 
advantages were few, but the conversation of edu- 



60 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

cated men, upon important subjects, laid the foun 
dation of their eminence in public life. 

" You must give heed to little things," Mr. 
Franklin would frequently say to his sons, when 
they appeared to think that he was too particular 
about some things, such as behavior at the table, 
" although nothing can really be considered small 
that is important. It is of far mo^-e consequence 
how you behave, than what you wear." 

Sometimes, if the meal was unusually plain (and 
it was never extravagant), he would say, '' Many 
people are too particular about their victuals. 
They destroy their health by eating too much and 
too rich food. Plain, simple, wholesome fare is all 
that nature requires, and young persons who are 
brought up in this way will be best off in the end." 

Such kind of remarks frequently greeted the "^ars 
of young Benjamin ; so that, as we have already 
seen, he grew up without caring much about the 
kind of food which he ate. Perhaps here is to be 
found the origin of his rigid temperance principles 
in both eating and drinking, for which he was dis- 
tinguished all through his life. In his manhood, he 
wrote and talked upon the subject, and reduced his 
principles to practice. When he worked as printer 
in England, his fellow-laborers were hard drinkers 
of strong beer, really believing that it was necessary 
to make them competent to endure. They were as- 
tonished to see a youth like Benjamin able to excel 



TABLE-TALK. 



61 



the smartest of them in the printing-office, while 
he drank only cold water, and they sneeringly called 
him " the Water- American." 

The temperance habits which Benjamin formed 
in his youth were the more remarkable, because 
there were no temperance societies at that time, and 
it was generally supposed to be necessary to use in- 
toxicating drinks. The evils of intemperance were 
not viewed with so much abhorrence as they are 
now, and the project of removing them from society 
was not entertained for a moment. Reformatory 
movements, in this regard, did not commence until 
nearly one hundred years after the time referred to. 
Yet Benjamin was fully persuaded in his youth 
that he ought to be temperate in all things. Prob- 
ably there was not one of his associates who believed 
as he did on the subject. But he began early to 
think for himself, and this, with the excellent dis- 
cipline of his wise and sagacious father, caused him 
to live in advance of those around him. It is not 
probable that he adopted the principle of total absti- 
nence, and abstained entirely from the use of intox- 
icating drinks ; but he was not in the habit of using 
it as a daily, indispensable beverage. 

That the practice of Benjamin's father, to allow 
no finding fault with the food at the table, and to 
lead the way in profitable conversation, was a good 
one, we think no one can deny. It was very differ- 
ent, however, from much of the table-talk that is 



6J THE PRINTER-BOY. 

heard in families. Conversation is frequently brisk 
and lively, but it often runs in this way : — 

" I don't want any of that, I don't love it," ex- 
claimed Henry. " I should think you might have 
a better dinner than this." 

" What would you have if you could get it, — 
roast chicken and plum pudding ? " inquires his 
mother, laughing, instead of reproving him for his 
error. 

" I would have something I can eat. You know 
I don't love that, and never did." 

" Well, it does boys good, sometimes, to eat what 
they don't love, especially such particular ones as 
you are," says his father. 

" I sha n't eat what I don't like, at any rate," 
continues Henry, " I shall go hungry first." 

" There, now," added his father, " let me hear no 
more complaint about your food. You are scarcely 
ever suited with your victuals." 

" May I have some ? " calling for some article not 
on the table. 

" If you will hold your tongue, and get it your- 
self, you can have it." 

" And let me have some, too ! " shouts James, a 
younger brother ; " I don't love this, neither. May 
I have some, father ? " 

" And I too," said Jane, setting up her plea. " I 
must have some if they do." 

In this way the table-talk proceeds, until fretting, 



TABLE-TALK. 63 

scoldiug, crying, make up the sum total of the con- 
versation, and family joys are embittered for the 
remainder of the day. Finding fault with food is 
the occasion of all the imhappiness. 

Let the reader ask himself how much he has con- 
tributed to make conversation at the table proper 
and instructive. Has he thought more of the qual- 
ity of his food than of anything else at the family 
board ? If the review of the past reveals an error 
in this respect, let him learn a valuable lesson from 
this part of Benjamin Frankhn's life. Though it 
may seem to be an unimportant matter, accept the 
testimony of Benjamin himself, and believe that it 
leaves its impress upon the future character. 



VII. 

CHOOSING A TEADE. 

" ~\7"0U WILL have to be a tallow-chandler after 
i all, when your brother gets married and 
goes away," said one of Benjamin's associates to him. 
He had heard that an older son of Mr. Franklhi, 
who worked at the business with his father, was 
about being married, and would lemove to Rhode 
Island, and set up business for himself. 

" Not I," replied Benjamin. " I shall work at it 
no longer than I am obliged to." 

" That may all be, and you be obliged to work at 
it all your life. It will be as your father says till 
you are twenty-one years old." 

" I know that ; but my father does not desire to 
have me work in his shop against my wishes, only 
till I can find some other suitable employment. I 
would rather go to sea than anything." 

" Are your parents not willing that you should go 
to sea ? " 

" No ; they won't hear a word to it. I have 
talked with them about it till it is of no use. They 
Bcem to think that I should be shipwrecked, or that 



..I 



CHOOSING A TRADE. 65 

something else would happen, to prevent my re- 
turn." 

" Then, if you can't go to sea, and you won't be 
a tallow-chandler, what can you do?" 

"I hardly know myself; but almost anything is 
preferable to this greasy business. If people had 
no more hght than the candles I should make, un- 
less I was obliged to, they would have a pretty dark 
time of it." 

" I don't think it is a very disagreeable business," 
continued his companion. " It is quite easy work, 
certainly, — much more to my liking than sawing 
wood, and some other things I could name." 

" It may be easy," replied Benjamin ; " but it is 
dirty and simple. It requires no ingenuity to do all 
that I do. Almost any simpleton could cut wicks 
and fill candle-moulds. A fellow who can't do it 
could n't tell which side his bread is buttered. 1 
prefer to do something that requires thought and 
ingenuity." 

" There is something in that ; but I guess it will 
take all your ingenuity to work yourself out of the 
tallow-chandler's business," responded his friend, 
rather dryly. 

This conversation occurred one day in the shop 
when Mr. Franklin was out. But just at this point 
he returned, and soon after the young visitor left. 
Benjamin was not acquainted with all his father's 
plans, and he had actually proceeded further than 



66 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

he was aware of towards introducing him into an- 
other calling, as the following conversation with 
Mrs. F., on the previous evening, will show: — 

" I have resolved to find some other employment 
for Benjamin at once,'' said he ; " as John is to be 
married so soon, he will be able to render me but 
little more assistance, and I must have some one to 
take his place.'' 

" Are you satisfied," inquired Mrs. Franklin, 
" that Benjamin cannot be prevailed upon to take 
the place of John in your shop ? " 

" yes ! he is so dissatisfied with the business, 
that I fear he will yet go to sea, unless his attention 
is soon turned to some other pursuit. Then, if he 
has a taste for any other honorable pursuit, I am 
willing that he should follow it. He would not 
accomplish much at candle-making with his present 
feelings." 

" Have you anything in view for him to do ? " 
asked Mrs. F. 

" Not positively. I want to learn, if I can, 
whether he has taste and tact for any particular 
business. If he has, he will accomplish more in 
that. I don't believe in compelling a boy to follow 
a pursuit for which he has no relish, unless it is 
where nothing else offers." 

"I think it is very necessary for boys to have 
a definite trade," said Mrs. F. ; " they are more 
likely to succeed than those who are changing often 



CHOOSING A TRADE. 67 

from one thing to another. ' A rolling stone gath- 
ers no moss,' is an old saying." 

"That is the principal reason for my plan to 
introduce him into some other business soon. No 
one feels the importance of this more than I do, and 
I have pretty thoroughly imbued the mind of Ben- 
jamin with the same views. I think he has a desire 
to follow a definite calling, though now his taste 
seems to draw him towards a seafaring life." 

Benjamin could have appreciated this last remark, 

if it had been uttered in his hearing. For he had 

listened to so much counsel upon this point, that he 

had no desire to run from one tiring to another. 

And he continued to cherish tliis feelmg. When he 

became a man, he wrote the following maxims, 

among the many of which he was the author : — 

" He that hath a trade hath an estate." 

" He that hath a callmg hath an office of honor." 

Here he taught the same lesson that he received 

from the lips of his father and mother when he was 

young. A trade is the assurance of a livelihood, 

however hard the tunes may be. As a general rule, 

they who follow trades secure a living, when they 

who have none come to want and suffer. 

But to return. Mr. Franklin rather surprised 
Benjamin by saying, after his associate left the shop, 
" I have decided to find some other bushiess for 
you immediately, if possible. I hope to find some 
opening for you to learn an agrcea^>)lo trade." 



68 THE PEINTER-BOY. 

" Where shall you go to find one ? " mquired 
Benjamin, scarcely expecting to have his wishes 
gratified so early. " Have you any particular 
trade in view ? " 

" No ; I want to consult your tastes about the 
matter first ; and I propose to go to-morrow with 
you, to see what we can find." 

" And I go with you, did you say ? " 

" Yes ; I wish to have you witness some things 
to which I shall call your attention, and decide foi 
yourself what calling to follow." 

" Where will you go ? " inquired Benjamin, 
deeply interested in the plan, as well he might be. 

" I shall not go out of town. Boston furnishes 
good examples of the different trades, and we shall 
not be under the necessity of extending our re- 
searches beyond its limits. So to-morrow I think 
we will start." 

Benjamin was dehghted with the prospect of be- 
ing delivered soon from the tallow-chandler's shop, 
and he anticipated the morrow with considera- 
ble impatience. He rejoiced when the light of the 
next morning came in at his chamber window, and 
brighter and earlier he was up to await his father's 
bidding. Suitable preparations were made, and 
directly after breakfast they set forth upon their 
important errand. The first shop they visited was 
that of a joiner, where he saw the plane and ham- 
mer used to advantage. He had witnessed such 



CHOOSING A TRADE. 69 

labor before, and also seen other employments to 
which his father called his attention on that day ; 
but he never observed these different trades with 
the object which now brought him to the shops. 
Having spent some time at the joiner's bench, he 
next went to a turner's place of business, where he 
saw different articles turned to order, in so rapid a 
manner as to surprise him. He was more inter- 
ested in the turning-lathe, and its rapid movement, 
than he was in the use of joiner's tools. Passmg 
through a prominent street, after leaving the turn- 
er's, they came to an unfinished structure, on which 
bricklayers were employed. Here another trade 
was on exhibition, and Benjamin's attention was 
called to it, and the various kinds of labor which 
this class of toilers were obliged to perform were 
explamed to him. In this way they visited other 
work-shops, until they had seen the practical opera- 
tions of the different trades, and Benjamin under- 
stood what kind of toil each required. One of the 
last shops they visited was that of Samuel Frank- 
lin, a son of Uncle Benjamin, and, of course, a 
cousin of Benjamin. He learned the trade of cut- 
ler in London, and had just come over and estab- 
lished himself m Boston. The business of a cutler 
is to make knives and other cutting instruments, 
in some respects a very interesting and attractive 
trade. Benjamm was evidently more pleased with 
this kind of business than any he had seen on tliat 



70 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

day. Whether it grew out of a boyish love for 
jack knives, or was the consequence of closely ob 
serving the ingenious modes of manufacturing cut- 
lery, we need not say. It is enough to know that 
he was partially captivated by the trade, and before 
they reached home his father was well satisfied 
which trade he would select, though he had not 
questioned him at all on this pomt. 

" What trade have you decided to follow, Ben- 
jamin ? " inquired his mother, as they sat at the 
tea-table ; and she let fall a most loving smile upon 
her boy. 

" I think any of them are better than making 
candles," he replied, " although I like Samuel's 
trade the best of all." 

" That is just what I expected," said his father, 
laughingly. " I saw that you fell in love with his 
work, and I think myself that it is a very pleasant 
and promising business." 

" So you will decide to take that trade, wil), 
you ? " said his mother. 

" In preference to all the trades I have seen yet,'' 
replied Benjamin. 

"He is after a pocket-knife," interrupted John, 
who sat at the table, speaking in a vein of pleas- 
antry. " I see clearly what has taken his eye." 

" I suppose John will never care more about a 
knife, now he is going to have a wife," added Mr. 
Franklin, addressing his remark to Benjamin, in 



CHOOSING A TRADE. 71 

order to help him out of the predicament into 
which John's remark had placed him. " But did 
you not like the brazier's business ? " 

" Yes, su- ; I liked it very well, but not so well as 
I do the cutler's trade. If I can have my choice, I 
shall choose that, and will begin to-morrow, if you 
are willing." 

" I shall make no objection, if that is your decis- 
ion," replied his father. " I want you should weigh 
the matter carefully, however, and not be hasty 
in choosing." 

" It remains to be seen whether Samuel will take 
him as an apprentice," said Mrs. Franklin. " Per- 
haps he may not want one. He has just com- 
menced, and cannot be doing much business yet." 

" Father can easily learn that," said Benjamin. 
" He can see cousin Samuel to-morrow, and decide 
the matter at once." 

" I will see him to-morrow," said his father, 
" and arrange for you to go uito his shop if pos- 
sible." 

On the following day, Mr. Franklin called upon 
Samuel, his nephew, and made known the wishes 
of Benjamin. Although it was a new and unex- 
pected subject, yet he received it favorably, and 
finally decided that Benjamin might come imme- 
diately, and try his hand at this new business. He 
thought it was best for both parties that no definite 
agreement or bargain should be made until Benja- 



72 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

min had tried the work, to which his father as- 
sented. 

Accordingly, Benjamin entered upon his new 
trade immediately, and was much pleased with it. 
It was so different from the work of candle-making, 
and required so much more thought and ingenuity, 
that he was prepared to pronounce it " first rate." 
It was with a light and cheerful heart that he went 
to each day's task. 

Mr. Franklin acted wisely in consulting the in- 
clination of his son about a trade. A boy may have 
more qualifications for one pursuit than another ; 
and this will generally be made manifest in the 
bent of his mind. He will exhibit a degree of tact 
for one calling, while he may be a blunderer at 
almost anything else. This characteristic is more 
remarkable with some boys than with others, and 
a disregard of it often entails unhappiness upon a 
whole family. When Handel, the distinguished 
musician, was a child, his father strictly forbade 
his listening to a note of music, or indulging his 
talent for the art. Although he exhibited remark- 
able musical abilities, his father paid no regard to 
the fact, but was determined to rear him to the pro- 
fession of law. He ordered all musical instruments 
to be carried out of the house, and made it as diffi- 
cult as possible for his son to gratify his taste for 
sweet sounds. But through the assistance of a ser- 
vant, the boy obtained an instrument, which he kept 



CHOOSING A TRADE. 73 

in the garret ; and there, when opportunity offered, 
with the strings of his " clavichord " so covered 
with pieces of cloth as to deaden the sound, he 
practised music until he became a proficient in har- 
mony. It was not, however, until his father took 
him on a visit to see an elder brother, who was in 
the family of the Prince of Saxe-Weisenfels, that he 
became acquainted with the progress he had made 
in his loved art. While there, he happened into 
the royal chapel just as the service was closing, 
when he glided up to the organ, unperceived, and 
commenced playing. The Prince was on the point 
of retiring ; but he stopped, and inquired who was 
playing. He was told that it was young Handel, 
only seven years old ; whereupon the Prince or- 
dered that the boy and Ms father should be sum- 
moned into his presence. The result of the inter- 
view was, that the Prince arranged for Handel to 
be placed for tuition under the organist of Halle 
Cathedral, where he soon became renowned. Pos- 
terity has not failed to condemn the unwise disci- 
pline of his father, in disregarding his inclination 
for a given pursuit. 

When Sir Joshua Reynolds was a boy, he was 
inclined to embrace every opportunity to gratify 
his taste for drawing. His father had no sympathy 
with him in thus spending his time, and he sought 
to repress his aspirations of tliis kind. One day he 
discovered that Joshua had disfigured his exercise- 
4 



74 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

book with a number of well-executed drawings ; 
but, instead of encouraging his talents in tliis line, 
he sharply rebuked him, and wrote underneath the 
sketches, " Done by Joshua out of pure idleness.'^'' 
His father was anxious that he should become a 
physician, and therefore he looked with no favor 
upon his propensity for drawing. But for the irre- 
pressible power of genius, his unwise father would 
have deprived the world of one of its most gifted 
painters. 

The father of John Smeaton pursued a like cen- 
surable course m the discipline of his son. He 
frowned upon those early developments of genius 
that foreshadowed the renowned engineer that he 
became. When only four or five years of age, he" 
was often seen dividing circles and squares. He 
rejected the toys that other children used, prefer- 
ring tools with wliich he could construct machines. 
When only six or seven years of age, he was dis- 
covered on the roof of the barn, much to the con- 
sternation of his father and mother, fixing up a 
windmill of his own construction. Soon afterwards 
he saw some men repairing a pump, and, procuring 
of them a piece of bored pipe, he made one of his 
own, with which he could raise water. At fourteen 
years of age he made an engine to turn rose-work, 
and many were his presents of boxes of wood and 
ivory turned by himself. He made all his tools for 
working wood, ivory, and metals. He also mvented 



I 



CHOOSING A TRADE. {5 

a lathe for cutting a perpetual screw in brass. And 
.yet his father was determined to make a lawyer of 
him, and thus spoil the mechanic. He actually dis- 
regarded all these proofs of mechanical genius, and 
sent him to London to be educated for the bar ; and 
it was not until his father began to see the impossi- 
bihty of makmg a good attorney of Mm, that he 
consented to let him follow the profession wliich the 
bent of his genius plainly marked out. 

The father of Benjamin Franklin acted more 
wisely in the first place, and resolved to educate 
him in that pursuit for which nature had best 
qualified him. 



VIII. 

THE PEINTER-BOY. 

AFTER BENJAMIN had worked at cutlery a 
suitable time, his father went to close the 
bargain, and make out the papers for his appren- 
ticeship. But, to his surprise, his nephew de- 
manded such conditions that Mr. Franklin could 
not think of accepting his proposition ; and the 
result was, that he took Benjamin away, much to 
his disappointment. The boy submitted to his fa- 
ther's decision, however, with true filial obedience, 
evidently believing that he had good reasons for 
taking such a stand. Now he was neither a tallow- 
chandler nor a cutler, though not destined to be 
long without employment. 

Just before this juncture, as if Providence or- 
dered events on Benjamin's account, Ms brother 
James returned from England, where he learned 
the printer's trade. He brought with him a good 
press, and type, in order to establish himself in 
Boston. 

'^ How would you like to learn the printer's 
trade with your brother James ? " inquired Mr. 



THE PRINTER-BOY. 



77 



Franklin of Benjamin. " I have been tliinking that 
it was a good thing you did not continue the cut- 
lery business, because you have superior qualifica- 
tions for this." 

" What qualifications have I for this that I have 
not for the cutler's trade ? " asked Benjamin. 

" You are a good reader, and have an mtellectual 
turn, being fond of books, and such things belong- 
ing to mental improvement as the trade of printer 

offers." „ 

" I think I should like the busmess very well, 
added Benjamin. " Perhaps I should have a better 
opportunity to read than I should with cousin Sam- 

-uel." 

" Of course you would. For the very matter you 
may be required to put into type may be as interest- 
ing and profitable as anytlung you could find in a 
book. AU that you read in books went through the 
printer's hand first." 

"I. had not thought of that before. I tlunk I 
should like the business better than ahnost any- 
thing I know of. How long will it take to learn 

the trade?" - „ x. i v 

« It wHl take some time," answered Mr. Frankhn. 
" You are now twelve years of age, and you can cer- 
tainly acquire the best knowledge of the business by 
the time you are twenty-one years old." 

"Tliat is a long time," said Benjamin; "but I 
shall do what you think is best." 



78 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" I want you should think it is best, too," said 
his father. " If you have no inclination to be a 
printer, I do not wish to have you undertake it. I 
have no confidence that you will succeed in any 
business for which you have no taste." 

'' Well, I think better of this business now than 
I do of any other," replied Benjamin, " and I 
should like to try it." , 

" I will speak with James about it," said liis 
father, " and see what arrangements can be made. 
The prospects of the business are not very flatter- 
ing at present, but I think the day is coming when 
it will thrive." 

Mr. Franklin lost no time in consulting James, 
who favored the plan without any reserve. He 
proposed to take Benjamin as an apprentice, to 
serve until he was twenty-one years of age, having 
only his board and clothes until the last year, when 
he would receive journeyman's wages. This was 
a good opportunity on the whole, for printing was 
in its infancy in this country at that time. It is 
probable that not more than six or eight persons 
had been in the business in Boston before James 
Franklui commenced, in the year 1717. The de- 
mand for printing must have been very small 
indeed. 

When Mr. Franklin first made known to Benja- 
min the conditions on which James would receive 
him into the printing-office, and that he would 



THE PRINTER-BOY. 79 

be expected to sign the iiidcntiire, and leave hi? 
father's roof for such a boarding-place as his broth- 
er might provide, he hesitated about taking the 
step. He stated his objections franldy and fully 
to his father, who removed them without much 
difficulty, so that the writings were drawn up, and 
Benjamin placed his signature to them, and was 
henceforth a " Boston printer's boy." 

He had not labored long at the business before 
he was quite fascinated with it. He liked it better 
even than he expected. He exhibited, too, a good 
degree of tact for it, and his progress in learning 
the art was rapid. His brother was liighly grati- 
fied with his close attention to his business, and 
commended him for the use he made of his leisure 
moments m reading. He was introduced now to 
another class of acquaintances, so that his opportu- 
nities for getting books to read were more favorable. 
The pruithig-office was frequented by booksellers' 
apprentices, whose employers necessarily wanted 
jobs of printing done. Through them Benjamin 
was made acquainted with the limited stock of 
books the market afforded. 

" I will lend you that book to-night," said one 
of these apprentices to him, " if you will return it 
clean in the morning," alluding to a certain vol- 
ume which Benjamin was looking over in the book- 
store. 

" I should be glad to read it," answered Benja- 



80 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

mill ; " I think I can read it through before I go 
to bed, and so return it in the morning when I go 
to the office." 

" You won't have much time left for sleep, if you 
read that book through before you go to bed," said 
the apprentice. 

" Perhaps not ; but I can afford to make a sliort 
night's rest of it, if I can have the reading of this 
book. I shall not mind that, and I can return it 
without a blemish." 

" The book is for sale," continued the apprentice, 
*' and we might have a call for it to-morrow, or I 
would let you keep it longer. If you do not read 
it all to-night, and we do not sell it to-morrow, you 
can take it home with you again to-morrow night. 
I frequently read a volume through, a little at a 
time, before we have a chance to sell it." 

" You may be sure of having this in the morn- 
ing, safe and sound," said Benjamin, as he left the 
store, thanking his friend for the kind favor. 

He went home, and sat up most of the night to 
read the book, being more deeply interested in its 
contents than he was in pleasant dreams." A short 
nap, after the volume was finished, was all that 
time could afford him ; and the bookseller got his 
book, and the printing-office its apprentice, in good 
season. 

This was but a single instance of the favors he 
received in this way from his new acquaintances in 



THE PRINTER-BOY. 81 

the book business. Many nights he stole from Mor- 
pheus, that he might read volumes which he must 
return in the morning. In this way his i^ind was 
much improved, so that he began to be noticed in 
the office as a boy of great promise. One day Mr. 
Matthew Adams, a merchant of rank and influence, 
who had been attracted by Benjamin's appearance, 
said to him : " Do you find time to read any, ^ith 
all the work you have to perform ? " 

" Yes, sir," rephed Benjamin ; " I read evenings, 
and occasionally find a little time during the day." 

" It is an excellent plan for boys to improve their 
minds," said Mr. Adams ; " you will never regret 
spendmg your time in this way. I should be glad 
to show you my library, and to loan you any books 
you may be interested to read." 

" That is what I should like," said Benjamin, 
evidently dehghted with this unexpected offer ; " I 
find it difficult to get all the books I want." 

'' It would afford me great pleasure to assist you 
what little I can in this respect," repeated Mr. Ad- 
ams. " Boys who are not privileged to go to school 
need such favors, and I am glad to see that you are 
' disposed to accept of them." 

Benjamin thanked him for his kindness, and as- 
sured him that he should embrace the first opportu- 
nity to call at his house. He redeemed his prom- 
ise at his earhest convenience, and Mr. Adams re- 
ceived him with genuine cordiality. He showed 
4 * F 



82 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

him his library, and allowed him to select any book 
he preferred to carry home, and invited him to 
come as often as he pleased for others. This was 
' a brimful cup of kindness to Benjamin, and the 
reader may be sure that he thought highly of Mr. 
Adams. Nor was he backward in availing himself 
of the privilege offered, but went often to gratify his 
thirst for knowledge. 

The reader can scarcely appreciate the value of 
this privilege to Benjamin, unless he understands 
that books were far from being abundant then. 
The bookstores, instead of being furnished with 
thousands of volumes to suit every taste in the read- 
ing world, offered only a meagre collection of vol- 
umes, such as would hardly be noticed at the pres- 
ent time. There were no large publishing houses, 
manufacturing many cords of books in a year, and 
scattering them over the land, as is the case with 
some publishers in our country to-day. Neither 
were there any libraries at that time. The idea of 
a collection of books to loan for the public good 
had not entered the minds of men, — a striking 
contrast with this feature of society now, when a 
oily like Boston opens its splendid Public Library 
of seventy-five thousand volumes, and constantly 
increasing, free to all her citizens, and smaller 
towns and villages throughout the land furnish 
reading matter for old and young in similar propor- 
tion ; and private libraries of five, ten, twenty, and 



THE PRINTER-BOY. 83 

thirty thousand volumes are not unusual. Now, 
the trouble with boys is not how they can possibly 
get books to read, but what they shall select from 
the vast number that load the shelves of libraries 
and bookstores. 

Neither were there any benevolent societies in his 
day, furnishing books at a reduced price, like the 
American Tract Society, which has issued Jffti/ thou- 
sand publications per day, four thousand of which 
are volumes. This amounts to twenty-four thou- 
sand books a week, and one million two hundred 
FORTY-EIGHT THOUSAND a year! Two hundred and 
forty-nine libraries, of five thousand volumes each, 
in one year, from the press of one benevolent insti- 
tution ! 

The habit of reading which Benjamin had thus 
early formed served to make him punctual. In 
order to command the more time, he was promptly 
at his work, and efficiently discharged every duty. 
He was not often, if ever, caught in tardiness. It 
was this well-formed habit of punctuality that made 
him so reliable in the printing-office. His brother 
knew that he would be there at such a time, and 
that he would remain just so many hours. This 
fact won his confidence, as it does the confidence of 
every one. There is no quality that does more to 
gain a good name for an individual, and inspire the 
confidence of his fellow-men, than this one of punc- 
tuality. It is so generally found in company with 



84 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

other excellent traits of character, that it seems to 
be taken for granted, usually, that the punctual 
person is worthy in other respects. This quality 
contributed to the renown and influence of Lord 
Brougham, of whom it is said, that, when he was in 
tlie zenith of his glory, presiding in the House of 
Lords and the Court of Chancery, he found time to 
manage eight or ten public associations, — one of 
which was the Society for the Diffusion of Useful 
Knowledge, — and he was a pattern of punctuality 
in every place, being always in the chair when the 
hour for meeting arrived. 



IX. 

FIRST LITEEARY ENTERPRISE. 

" TTTHAT HAYE you there ? " inquired James, 
T T at one time, looking over Benjamin's shoul- 
der at some composition which he held in his hand. 
" Ay ! poetry, is it ? Then you are a poet, are you ? 
Let me read it." 

Benjamin rather hesitated to exhibit the first 
attempts of his muse to fly, but James was deter- 
mmed to read it, and so he gave it up to him, say- 
ing, " I was only seeing what I could do." 

The fact was, Benjamin had been reading poetry 
considerably of late, and, having a little of its spirit 
in liis own nature, he was tempted to try his ability 
at writing some. 

" That is really good," said James, after he had 
read it ; " not quite equal to Virgil or Homer, but 
very good for a printer-boy to write. Have you 
any other pieces?" 

" Two or three more," answered Benjamin, some- 
what encouraged by his brother's commendation; 
"but they are not worth reading." 

" Produce them," said James, " and I will tell 



86 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

you what they are worth." Whereupon Benjamin 
took two or three more from his pockets, which 
James read with evident satisfaction. 

" I tell you what it is, Benjamin," said James, 
after having read them all, "you can write some- 
thing worth printing if you try ; and if you will 
undertake it, you may print and sell a sheet in the 
streets. I have no doubt that it would sell well." 

" I will see what I can do," replied Benjamin, 
" though I suspect my poetry won't read very well 
in print." 

Benjamin was not long in producing two street 
ballads, better, perhaps, than anything he had writ- 
ten before, but Still susceptible of very great im- 
provement. One wa,s entitled " The Light-house 
Tragedy," and was founded on the shipwreck of 
Captain Worthilake and his- two daughters. The 
other was a sailor's song, on the capture of the fa- 
mous "• Teach," or " Bluebeard," the pirate. James 
read them with approbation. 

" Now," said he, " you shall put them into type, 
and sell them about the town, if you are willing. I 
have no doubt that a good number of them may be 
disposed of." 

" How many copies of them would you print ? " 
inquired Benjamin. 

" We can print a few to begin with, and let the 
type remain standing until we see how they go. 
Then we shall run no risk." 



FIRST LITERARY ENTERPRISE. «T 

" Shall I do it immediately ? " 

As soon as you can," answered James. " The 
quicker the better." 

Benjamin was not long in printing the two bal- 
lads, and having them ready for sale. Under the 
direction of his brother, he went forth, in due time, 
to offer them about the town. Whether he cried 
them about the streets, as the newsboys do the daily 
papers now, we have no means of knowing. But he 
met with very good success, particularly in the sale 
of the fost, "The Light-house Tragedy." That 
commemorated an event of recent occurrence, and 
which excited much public feelmg and sympathy at 
the time, so that people were quite prepared to pur- 
chase. It sold even beyond his expectations, and 
his success inflated his vanity somewhat. It caused 
him to believe, almost, that he was a genume poet, 
and that distinction and a fortune were before him. 
If he had not been confronted by Ms father on the 
subject, it is possible that the speculation might 
have proved a serious injury to him. But his father 
learned of his enterprise, and called him to an 
account. Perhaps he stepped into his shop, as he 
was selling them about town, and gave him a copy. 
At any rate, his father learned of the fact, and the 
following interview will show what he thought of it. 

" I am ashamed to see you engaged in such a 
business, Benjamin," said he. 

" Why so, father ? " 



88 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

"Because it is not an honorable business. Yom 
are not a poet, and can write nothing worthy of 
being printed." 

" James approved of the pieces," said Benjamin, 
" and proposed that I should print and sell them." 

" James is not a judge of poetry," replied his 
father. " It is wretched stuff, and I am ashamed 
that you are known as the author. Look here, let 
me show you wherein it is defective ; " and here 
Mr. Franklin began to read it over aloud, and to 
criticise it. He was a man of sound sense, and 
competent to expose the faults of such a composi- 
tion. He proceeded with his criticisms, without 
sparing the young author's feelings at all, until 
Benjamin himself began to be sorry that he had 
undertaken the enterprise. 

" There, I want you should promise me," said 
his father, " that you will never deal in such 
wares again, and that you will stick to your 
business of setting up type." 

" Perhaps I may improve by practice," said 
Benjamin, " so that I may yet be able to write 
something worthy of being read. You could n't 
expect me to write very well at first." 

" But you are not a poet," continued Mr. Frank- 
lin. " It is not in you, and, even if it was, I should 
not advise you to write it ; for poets are generally 
beggars, — poor, shiftless members of society." 

" That is news to me," responded Benjamin. 



FIRST LITERARY ENTERPRISE. 89 

" How does it happen, then, that some of their 
works are so popular ? " 

" Because a true poet can write something worthy 
of being read, while a mere verse-maker, like your- 
self, writes only doggerel, that is not worth the 
paper on which it is printed. Now I advise you to 
let verse-making alone, and attend closely to your 
business, both for your own sake and your broth- 
er's." 

Mr. Franklin was rather severe upon Benjamin, 
although what he said of his verses was true. Still, 
it was a commendable effort in the boy to try to im- 
prove his mind. Some of the best poets who have 
lived wrote mere doggerel when they began. Also, 
many of our best prose-writers were exceedingly 
faulty writers at first. It is a noble effort of a boy to 
try to put his thoughts into writing. If he does not 
succeed in the first instance, by patience, energy, 
and perseverance he may triumph at last. Ben- 
jamin might not have acted wisely in selling his 
verses about town, but his brother, so much older 
and more experienced than himself, should bear the 
censure of that, since it was done by his direction. 

The decided opposition that Mr. Franklin showed 
to verse-making put a damper upon Benjamin's po- 
etical aspirations. The air-castle that his youthful 
imagination had built, in consequence of the rapid 
sale of his literary wares, tumbled to ruin at once. 
He went back to the office and liis work quite crest 
fallen. 



90 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" What has happened now? " mquired James, no- 
ticing that Benjamin looked somewhat less smiling 
and wide awake than he did. 

" Father doesn't think much of my printing and 
selling verses of my own," replied Benjamin. " He 
has been giving me a real lecture, so that I am al- 
most ashamed of myself." 

" How is that ? " said James, " does he dislike 
your pieces ? " 

^' Yes ; and he will not allow that they have any 
merit. He read them over in his way, and comited 
faults enough to show that there is precious little 
poetry in me. A beggar and a poet mean about the 
same thing to him." 

" He ought to remember that you are young," 
.^answered James, " and may improve wonderfully in 
future. You can't expect to write either prose or 
poetry well without beginning and trying." 

" All the trying in the world can do nothing for 
me, I should judge from father's talk," added Ben- 
jamin, rather seriously. 

Perhaps it was a good thing for Benjamin to meet 
with this obstacle in his path to success. According 
to his own confession, his vanity was inflated by the 
sale of his ballads, and he might have been pufted 
up to his future injury, had not his father thus 
unceremoniously taken the wuid out of his sails. 
There was little danger now, however. After such 
a severe handling, he was not likely to overrate his 



FIRST LITERARY ENTERPRISE. 91 

poetical talents. It had the effect, also, to turn his 
attention to prose writing, which is more substantial 
and remunerative than poetry, and in this he became 
distinguished, as we shall see hereafter. 

The practice of writing down one's thoughts, 
called in our schools " composition," is excellent, 
and ought not to be so generally neglected by the 
young as it is. It proved a valuable exercise to 
Benjamui, even before he became renowned in the 
service of his country. In several instances, while 
he was yet a youth, it enabled him to secure busi- 
ness, when otherwise he might have been in extreme 
want. It gave him the ability to conduct his broth- 
er's paper, when only sixteen years of age, at a time 
when the government of the Province incarcerated 
James, so that the paper would have been crushed 
but for the ability of Benjamin. When he first com- 
menced business in Philadelphia, also, it enabled 
hun to produce articles for the " Pennsylvania Ga- 
zette," which attracted general notice, and opened 
the way for his becoming both proprietor and edi- 
tor of the same. And a little later he was able to 
write a pamphlet on the '' Nature and Necessity of a 
Paper Currency^'' proposing a measure that was car- 
ried through the legislature, because the opponents 
of it had no writer in their ranks competent to an- 
swer it. These are only a few examples of the many 
advantages he derived from early training himself to 
write, even before he had passed the dew of his youth. 



92 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

In age, he referred to this practice of his boyhood 
with much pleasure, and regarded it as one of the 
fortunate exercises that contributed to his eminent 
success. 

Many such facts as the following might be cited 
upon this subject. A farmer's son began, at four- 
teen years of age, to write something every day, after 
his work was done, in a blank-book which he kepi 
for the purpose. He persevered in the practice foi 
severalr^years, and acquired a facility in compositioL 
before he thought of having a liberal education 
The consequence was, that his friends became ear 
nest to have him educated, and he was sent to col 
lege, where he ranked high as a writer ; and he iis, 
now about entering the muiistry, under very flatter- 
ing circumstances. Few young men have more ease 
and power of writing at the commencement of their 
ministerial work ; and it all results from his early 
self-discipline in the exercise of composition. 



X. 

THE DISPUTE. 

BENJAMIN WAS intimate, at this time, with a 
youth by the name of John Collins. He was 
intelligent, sprightly, and fond of books, so that 
he was a very agreeable companion. They differed 
somewhat in their opinions upon various subjects, 
and frequently found themselves engaged in earnest 
disputation. When other boys were accustomed to 
spend their time in foolish talking and jesting, Ben- 
jamin and John were warmly discussing some ques- 
tion of importance, well suited to improve the mind. 
One day their conversation related to the education 
of the sexes. 

" It would be a waste of money," said John, " to 
attempt to educate girls as thoroughly as boys are 
educated ; for the female sex are inferior to the male 
in intellectual endowment." 

" Pshaw ! " exclaimed Benjamin ; " you know 
better than that. The girls are not so simple as 
you think they are. I believe that females are 
not a whit inferior to males in their mental qua] 
ities." 



94 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

"I should like to know where you discover the 
evidence of it?" replied John. " There is no proof 
of it in the works they have written." 

" That may be true, and still they stand upon an 
equality in respect to intellect. For not half so 
much is done to educate them as there is to educate 
the male sex. How can you tell whether they are 
mentally inferior or not, until they are permitted to 
enjoy equal advantages ? " 

" As we tell many other things," answered John. 
" Females do not need so high mental endowments 
as males, since they are not required to lead off in 
the different branches of business, or to prosecute 
the sciences. I can see no wisdom in bestowing 
talents upon them which they never use, and it is 
often said that ' nothing is made in vain.' " 

" Well, I must go," said Benjamin, " but I think 
you have a weak cause to defend. If I had the time 
I could make out a case." 

" A poor one, I guess," quickly added John. 
" We will see, the next time we meet, who can 
make out a case." 

" It will be some time before we meet again," re- 
sponded Benjamin, " and our ardor will be cooled 
before that time, I am thinking. But it will do us 
no harm to discuss the subject." 

" If we keep our temper," said John, tacking his 
sentence to the last word of Benjamin's reply. And 
so saying, they parted. 



THE DISPUTE. 95 

After Benjamin had revolved the subject still 
more in his mind, he became anxious to commit his 
argument to writing. Accordingly, with pen and 
paper in hand, he sat down to frame the best ar- 
gument he could in favor of educating the female 
sex. He wrote it in the form of a letter, addressed 
to his friend Collins, and, after having completed, 
he copied it in a fair hand, and sent it to him. This 
brought back a long reply, which made it necessary 
for Benjamin to pen an answer. In this way the 
correspondence continued, until several letters had 
passed between them, and each one had gained the 
victory in his own estimation. 

One day Benjamin's father met with these letters 
accidentally, and he read them over, and was some- 
what impressed with their character. 

" What are these, Benjamin ? " he inquired, at 
the same time holding up the letters. 

Benjamin smiled, and rather hesitated to reply. 

" So it seems you have been engaged in a contro- 
versy with John," continued Mr. Franklin. " You 
have both done very well, though I think there is 
some chance of improvement yet." 

" Have you read them all ? " inquired Benjamin. 

" I have, and must say that, in some respects, 
John has the advantage of you." 

"In what has he the advantage?" asked Benja- 
min, with some anxiety. 

" Well, John writes in a more finished style than 



96 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

you do," answered Mr. Franklin. " His expressions 
are more elegant, and there is more method and 
perspicuity in his composition.'* 

" I rather think you are prejudiced," said Benja- 
min, with a smile. 

"/rather think not," answered his father. " You 
have the advantage of John in correct spelling, and 
in pointing your sentences, which is the consequence 
of working in the printing-office. But I can con- 
vince you that less method and clearness character- 
ize your letters than his." 

" I am ready to be convinced," added Benjamin. 
" I hardly expect I have attained perfection in writ 
ing yet." 

His father then proceeded to read from the let- 
ters of each, with the design of showing that John's 
writing was more perspicuous, and that there was 
more method in his argument. Nor was it a very 
difficult task. 

" I am convinced," said Benjamin, before his 
father had read all he intended to read. " I can 
make improvement in those points without much 
trouble. There is certainly a good chance for it." 

" That is what I want you should see," rejoined 
his father. " I am really pleased with your letters, 
for they show me that you have talents to improve. 
My only object in calling your attention to these 
defects is to aid you in cultivating your mental 
powers." 



THE DISPUTE. 97 

This kind, paternal criticism was a very happy 
thmg for Benjamin. It had the effect to make him 
more careful in his compositions, and to beget with- 
in him both a desire and resolve to improve. Not 
long after, he met with an old volume of the Spec- 
tator, in a bookstore ; and knowing that it would 
be a good model by which to form the style, he con- 
cluded to purchase it. He bought it at a low price, 
and began to study it with reference to improving 
the style of his composition. The method which 
he adopted to discipline himself, by the aid of this 
work, is proof of his patience, perseverance, and 
desire to excel. In the first place, he read it over 
and over, until he became very well acquainted with 
its contents. Then he took some of the papers it 
contained, and made short hints of the sentiments 
of each sentence, and laid them by a few days ; and 
then, without referring to the book, he proceeded to 
put those thoughts into sentences, and thus went 
through each paper, — a long and laborious work. 
When he had completed a paper in this way, he 
carefully compared his Spectator with the original, 
and was able thereby to discover and correct many 
errors in his style of composing. He found that he 
was very deficient in the command of language. 

" If you had not discouraged me in writing 
poetry," said he to his father, " I should liave 
found it of much service now." 

" How so ? " inquired Mr. Franklin. 

5 



98 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

"If I had continued to write poetry, I should 
have been obliged to select words that would rhyme, 
and this would have made me familiar with a larger 
number of words, and the choicest ones too. I am 
greatly troubled now to find words to express my 
thoughts." 

" I had no objections to your writing poetry with 
such an object in view ; but to print and sell it 
about town was carrying the thing a little too far," 
replied Mr. Franklin. "It is not too late to begin 
now. I rather think you have discovered an im- 
portant defect in your writing. John evidently has 
a better command of language than you have, 
hence his style is more polished. But you are at 
work, now, in the right way to improve. Perse- 
verance will accomplish the thing." 

" I am going to do this," said Benjamin ; " I 
shall take some of the tales in the book and put 
them into verse, and then, after a while, change 
them back again." 

" That will be a good exercise," answered his 
father, much pleased with his son's desire to im- 
prove. " K your patience holds out, you will Jbe 
amply rewarded, in the end, for all your labor." 

This last purpose, Benjamin executed with much 
zeal, and thus divided his time between putting 
tales into poetry, and then turning them into prose. 
He also jumbled his collection of hints into confu- 
sion, and there let them lay for some weeks, when 



THE DISPUTE. 99 

he would reduce them to order, and write out the 
sentences to the end of the subject. 

For a printer-boy to accomplish so much, when 
he must work through the day in the office, seemed 
hardly possible. But, at this period, Benjamin 
allowed no moments to run to waste. He always 
kept a book by him in the office, and every spare 
moment was employed over its pages. In the morn- 
ing, before he went to work, he found some time for 
reading and study. He was an early riser, not, 
perhaps, because he had no inclination to lie in bed, 
but he had more to improve his mind. He gained 
time enough in the morning, by this early rising, 
to acquire more knowledge than some youth and 
young men do by constantly going to school. In 
the evening, he found still more time for mental 
improvement, extending his studies often far into 
the night. It was his opinion that people generally 
consume more time than is necessary in sleep, and 
one of his maxims, penned in early manhood, was 
founded on that opinion. The maxim is, "The 
sleeping fox catches no poultry." 

It is not strange that a boy who subjected himself 
to such close discipline for a series of years should 
write some of the best maxims .upon this subject 
when he became a man. Take the following, in 
addition to those cited in a former chapter: — 

" There are no gains without pains ; then help 
hands, for I have no lands.'* 



100 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" Industry pays debts, while despair increaseth 
them." 

" Never leave that till to-morrow which you can 
do to-day." 

*' Leisure is time for doing something useful." 

" A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two 
things," 

"Fly pleasures, and they will follow you. The 
diligent spinner has a large shift, and, now I have a 
sheep and a cow, every one bids me good-morrow." 

" Be ashamed to catch yourself idle." 

" Handle your tools without mittens ; remember 
that the cat in gloves catches no mice." 

" There is much to be done, and perhaps you are 
weak-handed ; but stick to it steadily, and you will 
see great effects, for constant dropping wears away 
stones; and by diligence and patience the mouse 
ate in two the cable ; and little strokes fell great 
oaks." 

" Early to bed, and early to rise 
Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." 

Here is the genuine gold of thought, — whole vol- 
umes of counsel worked down into single flashing 
pearls of truth, — just such utterances as we might 
expect from the lips of one who was early taught to 
walk in the ways of wisdom. All along in tlie fu- 
ture of Benjamin's life, we shall see that these 
charming maxims were illustrated, proving that 
they are living and bright realities. 



THE DISPUTE. 101 

In order to prosecute his pnqjoses, Benjainin took 
a step, at this period, for which he censured himself 
long after. Being away from his father's house, in 
a boarding-place provided by his brother, he vio- 
lated the Sa,bbath day by devoting its sacred hours 
to mental improvement. At home, his parents had 
ever required that he should attend pubhc worship ; 
but now he neglected the house of God, that he 
might command the more time for study. It was a 
grave breach of a divine commandment, and a dis- 
regard of parental authority, which he afterwards 
deeply regretted. At the time, he was obliged to 
hold long parleys with conscience, which told him 
that he ought still to visit the sanctuary, and devote 
Sabbath hours to sacred duties. Yet his great 
thirst for knowledge overcame his regard for lioly 
time. 

It must appear quite evident to the reader by this 
time, that Benjamin derived much benefit from his 
conversation with John Collins upon a useful topic. 
A large majority of boys, of their age, spend their 
leisure moments in vain and useless talking. They 
think not of self-improvement, and scarcely desire 
to be benefited in this way. The most unmeaning 
and thoughtless words escape from their lips, and a 
sound, sensible, valuable conversation they seldom, 
if ever, attempt. What an excellent example is 
that of young Franklin and Collins, discussing a 
question of importance, instead of wasting their 



102 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

breath in meaningless chatter ! It stimulated tlie 
former to consult the best models of style in com- 
position, and was the real occasion of his adopting 
a most critical and thorough plan of self-cvilture. 
All this the consequence of conversing properly, in- 
stead of spending leisure moments in boyish antics, 
or uttering nonsense ! 

The reader need not infer that violation of the 
Sabbath, and disregard of parental counsels, are 
less heinous sins than some would grant, since 
Benjamm was guilty of both, and yet he did not go 
to ruin. For ten boys who do the same things that 
he did are ruined thereby, where one is saved. 
The father of Walter Scott forbade his reading 
fictitious works, yet he concealed them in a sly 
place, and read them when his fatlier's eye was not 
upon him ; and they served to stimulate his mind to 
pursue a most brilliant literary career. In Hke 
manner. Pope, the distinguished poet, stroUed into 
the theatre in his boyhood, when he was away from 
his parents at school, and there the first aspiration 
of his soul for that sphere of mental effort in which 
he became distinguished, was begotten. But these 
examples cannot be cited in favor of novel-reading 
and theatre-going ; for they are exceptions to a 
general rule. The great mass of the youth who 
are fascinated by the novel and theatre make ship- 
wreck of their hopes. Scott and Pope, with a few 
others, are all who have escaped. 



XI. 

PLAIN PAEE. 

" TT^^^ MUCH will you allow me a week if I 

JLJL will board myself? " inquired Benjamin of 
James. " It costs you now more than you need to 
pay." James was still boarding Benjamin in a 
family near by, being himself yet unmarried. 

" Then you thmk I am paying more a week for 
your board than it is worth ? " replied his brother. 

" No more than you will be obliged to pay in any 
other family, but more than I shall ask you," an- 
swered Benjamin. 

" Then you think of opening a boarding-house 
for the special accommodation of Benjamin Frank- 
lin ? " which was treatmg his request rather lightly. 

" I propose to board myself," said Benjamin. " I 
do not eat meat of any kind, as you know, so that 
I can do it very easily, and I will agree to do it, if 
you will pay me half the money weekly \ which ycii 
pay for my board." 

" Agreed," replied James. " The bargain is 
made. When will you begin ? " 

" To-morrow," was Benjamin's laconic reply. 



104 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

Benjamin had been reading a work on '* vegetable 
diet," by one Tryon, and it was tliis which induced 
him to discard meat as an article of food. Mr. 
Tryon, in his work, go.ve directions for cooking 
vegetables, and such dishes as a vegetarian might 
use, so that the matter of boarding was made quite 
simple. Benjamin really thought that this mode of 
living was best for health and strength, though his 
chief object in proposing to board himself was to 
obtain money to purchase books. He had been try- 
ing a vegetable diet for some time in the family 
where he and his brother had boarded, and had 
often been both ridiculed and censured for his 
oddity. Perhaps he wanted to get away where he 
could eat as he pleased, with no one to say, " Why 
do ye so ? " But most of all he wanted to com- 
mand more money, that he might gratify his thirst 
for knowledge. 

James was very willhig to accept the proposition, 
as it would brmg a little more money into his 
pocket. He was an avaricious and penurious young 
man, who thought mainly of making money in his 
busmess, and it was of little consequence to him 
whether he made it out of his brother or some one 
else. 

" How much do you make by boarding yourself, 
Ben ? " inquired James, some weeks after the ex- 
periment was commenced. 

" I save just half of the money you pay me^*' aj 



PLAIN FARE. 105 

swered Beajamin, "so that it costs me just one 
quarter as much as you paid for my board." 

" You understand economy, I must confess," said 
his brother. " However, I have no fault to find if 
you are satisfied." 

" The money I save is not the best part of it," 
continued Benjamin. " I save about a half-hour 
every noon for reading. After I have eaten my 
meal, I usually read as long as that before you 
return from dumer." 

" Not a very sumptuous meal I reckon," said 
James dryly ; " sawdust-pudding, perhaps, with 
cold-water sauce ! " 

" Nothing so difficult to procure as that," re- 
sponded Benjamin. " A biscuit or a slice of bread, 
with a tart or a few raisins, and a glass of water, 
make a good dinner for me ; and then my head is 
all the lighter for study." 

" I should think you might have a light head 
mth. such living," added James, " and your body 
will be as light before many weeks I prophesy." 

" I will risk it. I am on a study now that re- 
quires a clear head, and I am determined to mas- 
ter it." 

" What is that ? " 

" It is Cocker's Arithmetic." 

" Begin to wish you knew something about arith- 
metic by this time," added James sarcastically. 
" Making up for misspent time, I see ! " Here 
5* 



106 THE PRINTEE-BOY. 

was a fling at Benjamin's dislike of arithmetic when 
he was sent to schooL We have seen that he ac- 
complished nothing in figures, either at the public 
school or when he was under Mr. Brownwell's tui- 
tion. Liking some other studies better, he neglected 
this, and now, as is generally the case, he regretted 
his error, and applied himself to acquire that which 
he might have acquired before. It was a difficult 
task for him, but his patience and perseverance, 
together with his economy of time, and temperance 
in eating and drinking, enabled him to accomplish 
his object. Then he read Seller's and Sturney's 
work on Navigation, and made himself particularly 
familiar with the geometry which it contained. 
" Locke on the Understanding," and " The Ai't of 
Thinking," were two other works that he read 
closely while he was livmg on a vegetable diet. All 
these works were difficult to be mastered by a boy 
not yet fourteen years of age. Yet he was not dis- 
couraged by this fact ; it rather seemed to arouse 
him to greater efforts. 

" You calculate time as closely as a miser does 
his money, Ben," said James. 

" As little as I have for myself requires that I 
should calculate closely," was his reply. " Time is 
money to you, or else you would allow me a little 
more to myself; and it is more than money to me." 

" How so ? " inquired James. 

" It enables me to acquire knowledge, which I 



PLAIN FAHE. 107 

cannot buy with money. Unless I was saving of 
my time, I should not be able to read or study at 
all, having to work so constantly." 

Perhaps, at this time, Benjamin laid the founda- 
tion for that economy which distinguished him in 
later life, and about which he often wrote. Among 
his wise sayings touching this subject are the fol- 
lowuig : — 

"If you would be wealthy, think of saving, as 
well as of getting." 

" What maintains one vice would bring up two 
children." 

" Many a little makes a mickle." 

" A small leak will sink a ship." 

" At a great peimyv^orth pause awhile." 

" Silks and satms, scarlet and velvets, put out the 
kitchen fire." 

" Always taking out of the meal-tub, and never 
puttmg in, soon comes to the bottom. 

" For age and want save while you may, — 
No morning sun lasts a whole day." 

" It is easier -to build two chimneys than to keep 
one in fuel." 

" A penny saved is a penny earned." 

" A penny saved is two-pence clear ; 
A pin a day is a groat a year." 

" He that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time 
per day, one day with another, wastes the privilege 
of using one hundred pounds each day." 



108 • THE PRINTER-BOY. 

To a young tradesman lie wrote, in the year 
1T48 : — 

" Remember that time is money. He that can 
earn ten shilHngs a day by his labor, and goes 
abroad or sits idle one half that day, though he 
spend but sixpence during his diversion or idleness, 
ought not to reckon that the only expense ; he has 
really spent, or rather thrown away, five shillings 
besides 

" In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is 
as plain as the way to market. It depends chiefly 
on two words, industry 2a\^ frugality ; that is, waste 
neither time nor money ^ but make the best use of 
both. Without industry and frugality, nothing will 
do, and with them everything. He that gets all he 
can honestly, and saves all he gets (necessary ex- 
penses excepted), will certainly become rich^ — if 
that Being who governs the world, to whom all 
should look for a blessing on their honest endeav- 
ors, doth not, in his wise providence, otherwise de- 
termine." 

In these excellent sayings, time and money are 
spoken of together, because time is money; and 
Franklin was never more economical of one than of 
the other. All that he says of frugality in respect 
to property applies equally to time, and vice versa. 
In his boyhood, when he adopted a vegetable diet, 
he had no money to save, so that the most of his 
economy related to time. It being to him as valu- 



PLAIi^ FARE. 109 

able as gold, he was prompted to husband it as well. 
To some observers he might have appeared to be 
penurious, but those who knew him saw that he 
reduced another of his own maxims to practice ; 
" We must save, that we may share." He never 
sought to save time or money that he might hoard 
the more of worldly goods to enjoy in a selfish way. 
He was ever generous and liberal, as we shall see 
hereafter. The superficial observer might suppose 
that a niggardly spirit prompted him to board him- 
self, — that he adopted a vegetable diet for the 
sake of filthy lucre. But nothing could be wider 
from the truth than such a view. We cannot dis- 
cover the least desire to hoard the money he saved. 
He laid it out in books, and such things as aided 
him in self-improvement. He believed in temperate 
eating, as we have already said, and the following 
maxims of his show the same thing : — 
" Who dainties love, shall beggars prove." 
" Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them." 
" Buy what thou hast no need of, and erelong 
thou shalt sell thy necessaries." 

He saw that he could never possess the books he 
needed, or command the time, if his appetite for 
luxuries was -gratified. In his circumstances, the 
most marked self-denial was necessary, to gain his 
object. At the same time, he believed it would 
make him more healthy to be abstemious. There 
was not an iota of stinginess in his habitual econ- 
omy. 



110 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

Economy of time or money is praiseworthy only 
when it is done to command the means of being 
useful, — which was true of FrankUn. "When it is 
practised to gratify a sordid love of money, it is 
ignoble and sinful. 

About this time, Benjamin and John Collins had 
another interview, — differing somewhat from the 
one already described, as the following dialogue will 
show : — 

" What book is this, Ben ? " inquired John, tak- 
ing up one from the table. 

"It is an old English Grammar which I came 
across the other day," answered Benjamin. " It 
has two chapters, near the close, on Rhetoric and 
Logic, that are valuable." 

" Valuable to you, perhaps, but not to me," said 
John. " What shall I ever want of Rhetoric or 
Logic ? " 

" Everybody ought to know something about 
them," answered Benjamin. " They have already 
helped me, in connection with the works of Shaftes- 
bury, to understand some things about religion bet- 
ter. I have believed some doctrines just because 
my parents taught me so." 

" Then you do not believe all that you have been 
taught about religion, if I understand you ? " 

" No, I am free to say that I do not. There is 
neither reason nor wisdom in portions of the creed 
of tlie Church." 



PLAIN FARE. Ill 

" Why, Ben, you surprise me. You are ^getting 
to be quite infidel for a boy. It won't do for you to 
read Logic and Shaftesbury any more, if you are so 
easily upset by them." 

" Made to understand better by them what is 
right and what is wrong," answered Benjamin. 
" The fact fs, very few persons think for them- 
selves. They are religious because they are so 
instructed. They embrace the religion of their 
parents without asking themselves what is true or 
false." 

" There is not much danger that you will do 
that," said John. " Present appearances rather 
indicate that the religious opinions of your father 
will be blown sky-high," — though John did not 
mean quite so much as his language denotes. 

" You do not understand me. I respect my par- 
ents and their religious opinions, though I doubt 
some of the doctrines they have taught, and which 
I never carefully examined until recently." 

" I must go," said Jolm ; " at another time, I will 
hear more;" — and he hurried away to his busi- 
ness, which was waiting for him. 

Benjamin had read carefully the works of Col- 
lins and Shaftesbury, which were well suited to 
unsettle his religious belief. At the time of this 
interview, he was really a doubter, though not 
avowedly opposed to religion. The fact shows the 
necessity of using care in selecting books to be 



112 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

read, and the danger of tampering with those that 
speak Hghtly of the Gospeh Even a mind as strong 
as that of Benjamin was warped by the sophistries 
of such a book, and it was some years before he 
recovered wholly from the sad effects of such read- 
ing. His early religious culture, however, and his 
disposition and ability to perceive the "truth, finally 
saved him from the abyss of infidelity, as will appear 
more evident in the pages that follow. 



XII. 

THE NEWSPAPEE. 

ON THE seventeentli day of January, 1721, 
James Franklin began to issue a newspaper, 
called " The New England Courant." It was the 
third one at the time in the whole country. The 
first paper — "The Boston Newsletter" — was 
established in 1704, two years before the birth of 
Benjamui. It was only a half-sheet of paper, about 
the size of an eight by twelve inch pane of glass, " in 
two pages folio, with two columns on each page." 
Consequently, it could not have contained more 
printed matter than is now compressed mto half a 
page of one of our Boston dailies. Yet it was con- 
sidered a very important undertaking for the times. 

When James Franklm proposed to start the third 
paper in America, some of his friends thought it was 
a wild project, and endeavored to dissuade him from 
it. They saw notldng but ruin before ]iim, and 
used every persuasion to lead him to abandon the 
enterprise. They thought that two newspapers, such 
as would now excite a smile by their inferior size, 
were quite enough for a country like tliis. Take this 



114 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

fact, in connection with the present abundance of 
papers, and the contrast presents a striking view of 
tlie progress of America since that day. At that 
time there was not a daily paper in the land. Now 
there are eight in the city of Boston alone, having 
an aggregate daily cumulation of about one hundred 
and twenty-five thousand, which would amount to 
nearly forty million sheets m a year, — more than 
enough to furnish every man, woman, and child in 
the country with one sheet each. All this from the 
daily press of Boston, where, one hundred and forty 
years ago, it was thought that a third weekly newspa- 
per, scarcely large enough to wrap a baker's loaf m, 
could not be supported ! Bind them into volumes, 
containing one hundred sheets each, and we have 
an enormous library of daily newspapers, numbering 
four hundred thousand volumes, the annual produc- 
tion of the Boston daily press in 1860 ! And this 
only the aggregate of eight different papers, while 
Boston alone now has one hundred and forty papers 
and periodicals of all sorts, and the State of Mas- 
sachusetts nearly three hundred! How marvellous 
the change since Franklin was a poor printer-boy ! 

But look at these eight daily papers of Boston 
again. Suppose they measure a yard each in width, 
upon an average, when opened ; — here we have one 
hundred and twenty-five thousand yards of news- 
papers emanatmg daily from only eight presses of 
Franklin's native city ; which is equal to seventy -one 



THE NEWSPAPER. 115 

miles per day, and four hundred tiventy-six miles per 
week, and twenty-two thousand one hundred and 
fifty-two miles in a year! Tliis is truly surpris- 
ing. Almost paper enough from the eight daily 
presses of Boston alone, every year, to reach aroiuid 
the earth ! 

Or, suppose we weigh these papers. If ten of them 
weigh a smgle pound, then each day's issue weighs 
twelve thousand five hundred 'pounds^ each week's 
issue amounts to seventy-five thousand pounds^ which 
swells the amiual aggregate to about four million 
pounds. Load this yearly production upon wagons, 
one ton on each, and we have two thousand two- 
horse loads of newspapers from these eight presses 
in a year! Agam, we say, how marvellous tlie 
change ! 

If eight daily papers of Boston throw o'ff this vast 
amount of reading-matter in a year, what immense 
quantities are supplied by all the presses m the land ! 
Could the actual statistics be laid before us m romid 
numbers, doubtless the most credulous even would 
be amazed at the result. 

But to return. James decided to issue his paper, 
notwithstanding the advice of some of his friends to 
the contrary, and he thus opened the subject to Ben- 
jamin : — 

" I have resolved to issue a paper, and it will 
require our united exertions to make it go. No 
doubt I shall meet with opposition, and perhaps shall 



116 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

fail in the attempt, but I have determined to fail 
trijingy 

" What particular service can I render ? " in- 
quired Benjamin. 

" Aside from your usual work of type-setting, you 
are qualified to look after tlie composition and spell- 
ing of the articles in each number, and a part of 
your work shall be to deliver the paper to subscrib- 
ers from week to week." 

*' And be collector, too, I suppose," added Benja- 
min, rather fancying the idea of issuing a paper from 
the office. 

" As you like about that," answered his brother, 
" though it may be convenient, often, to have you 
render such a service." 

" I suppose you don't mean to make me editor 
also ? " he added, rather jestingly ; probably not 
dreaming that he should ever conduct the publica- 
tion. 

" I think not at present," was his brother's reply. 
" Printer, news-carrier, and collector, will be as much 
honor as you can withstand at once ; " and he had 
as little idea of the part Benjamin would play in the 
work as the boy had himself. 

Accordingly the paper was issued at the appointed 
time, creating quite a stir in the community, and 
provoking remarks pro and con concerning its ap- 
pearance, character, and prospects. Agreeably to 
the arrangement, Benjamin delivered the numbers 



THE NEWSPAPER. 117 

to subscribers, and perhaps he sold the paper al)out 
the streets, thus acting as one of the first newsboys 
on this western continent. 

Among the friends of James Frankhn, and the 
patrons of his paper, were several men who possessed 
considerable talent for writing, and they were accus- 
tomed to assemble at the printing-office, and discuss 
questions connected with the circulation of the pa- 
per. Benjamin's ears were usually open to their 
conversation, — and he heard the merits of different 
articles set forth, and learned that certain ones were 
quite popular, and elicited favorable remarks from 
readers generally. This excited his ambition*, and 
he earnestly desired to try his own ability in writing 
for the paper. He feared, however, that his com- 
position would not be regarded favorablji^ if it were 
known who was the author ; so he hit upon this 
expedient. He resolved to write an anonymous 
article, in his very best style, and get it into liis 
brother's liand so as not to awaken his suspicion. 
Accordingly, the article was prepared, and at night 
it was tucked under the printing-office door, w^here 
James found it in the morning. As usual, several 
of his writers came in about their usual time, and 
Benjamin had the happiness of hearing the following 
discussion : — 

" Here is a good article, tliat I found under tlie 
door this morning," said James, at the same time 
holding it up. 



118 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" Who is the author of it ? " inquired one. 

" It is anonymous," replied James, " and I have 
not the least idea who wrote it." 

" What is the subject ? " asked another ; and the 
subject was announced. 

" Let us hear it read," proposed a third. " You 
read it aloud to us, James." So James proceeded 
to read the article aloud, while all Hstened with 
deep interest. All the while Benjamin was busily 
employed at his work, though his ears were never 
more willing to hear. You may be sure that he felt 
rather queerly while his composition was undergo- 
ing this test, and a close observer might liMje ob- 
served a sly, comical twinkle of his eye. Thdread- 
ing went on without one of the company dreaming 
that the author stood at their elbow. 

" Capital ! " exclaimed one, as the last line was 
read. " Who can the author be ? '* 

" As a general thing," said James, " I shall not 
insert articles from persons unknown to me, but this 
is so good that I shall publish it." 

" By all means," said one of the company. " We 
shall soon find out the author ; it is a difficult mat- 
ter to keep such things secret for a long time." 

" The author is evidently a person of ability," 
added another ; " every sentence in that article is 
charged with tj^ought. I should judge that he 
wanted only culture to make him a writer of the 
first class." 



t 



THE NEWSPAPER. 119 

" Publishing the article will be as likely as any- 
thing to bring out the tfuthor," said James. 

It was decided to print the article, all having ap- 
proved of the same, much to the satisfaction of Ben- 
jamin, who awaited the decision with some anxiety. 
Now he scarcely knew how to act in regard to the 
piece, whether to father it at once, or still conceal 
its parentage. On the whole, however, he decided 
to withhold its authorship for the present, and try 
his hand again in the same way. Much encouraged 
by the success of his first effort, Benjamin was pre- 
pared to produce even a better article on the second 
trial, which was discussed and approved in the same 
way as the first. Thus he wrote, and put under 
the door at night, a number of articles, all of which 
were pronounced good by James and his friends. 
It was a time of much interest and excitement to 
Benjamin, since he was the " unknown character " 
so much extolled by the patrons of the " Courant." 
To hear his own articles remarked upon and 
praised, when no one dreamed that a boy like him- 
self could be the author, was well suited to stir up 
his feelings, if not to inflate his vanity. Many per- 
sons in like circumstances would be allured into 
indiscretions and improprieties. But Benjamin 
wisely kept his own secrets, while he industriously 
continued to set up types, fearing that disclosure at 
the pre&mt time might knock all his plans into 
" pi." 



120 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

There is no doubt that this was one of the inci- 
dents of Benjamin's boyhood tliat decided his future 
eminent career. It was a good thing to bring out 
his talents as a writer thus early, and it evidently 
introduced him to an exercise that was of the first 
importance in the improvement of his mind. From 
the time that he wrote the first article which he 
put under the door of the printing-office, he did not 
cease to write more or less for the public eye. He 
had written before, as we have seen, but his father 
had rather put a damper on his composing for the 
public to read, and, besides, the newspaper was a 
channel of communicating with readers altogether 
new to him. It was well suited to awaken deep in- 
terest in his heart, and to incite him to put forth his 
noblest efforts. 

The great English statesman. Canning, was sent 
to school at Eton, at twelve years of age, where he 
originated a mimic House of Commons among his 
schoolmates. Here they established a boy periodi- 
cal, called the " Microcosm." It was a weekly pub- 
lication, and issued from Windsor. It was con- 
ducted " after the plan of the ' Spectator,' the 
design being to treat the characteristics of the boys 
at Eton as Addison and his friends had done 
those of general society." In this paper several 
members of the school figured with credit to them- 
selves, though no one was more earnest to sustain 
it than young Canning. It became one of the 



THE NEWSPAPER. l21 

prominent influences that decided his future course, 
bringing out his talents, and stimulating his mind 
to labor in this honorable way. It also exerted a 
decided influence upon the character of another 
boy, named Frere, who afterwards shone as a writer 
on the pages of the " Anti-Jacobin." 

At the present day, in many seminaries and vil- 
lage lyceums, similar literary enterprises are sus- 
tained, to the no small advantage of the young who 
become personally interested in it. Every youth 
who desires to cultivate his mental faculties ought 
to hail such enterprises with joy, and pledge his no- 
blest efibrts to sustain them. It may be that it is 
discouragingly difficult for him to write at first ; but 
let him persevere, with patience and firm resolve, 
and he will prove to himself that " practice makes 
perfect." There is no better exercise for his mind 
than tills, and none better adapted to inspire him 
with a dauntless resolve to acquire knowledge. 



6 



XIII. 

THE CAT OUT 01 THE BAG. 

BENJAMIN WAS so higlily gratified witli the 
favorable remarks he heard about his articles, 
and especially that different persons, in guessing 
who the author might be, usually guessed some 
writer of distinction, that he could keep the secret 
no longer. He was eager to make the fact known, 
that the much talked of essays emanated from his 
own pen ; and soon " the cat was let out of the 
bag." 

Having a good opportunity, in reply to some re- 
mark of James about " the last article found under 
the door," he said, " I know who the author is." 

" You know ? " exclaimed James with surprise. 
" Why have you not disclosed it before ? " 

"Because I thought it was not wise. It is not 
best to tell all we know always." 

" But you have heard us discuss this matter over 
and over, and take measures to discover the author, 
and yet you have never intimated that you knew 
anything about it." 

" Well, the author did not wish to bo known, 



THE CAT OUT OF THE BAG. 123 

until the right time came, and that is a good reason 
for keeping the matter secret, I think." 

" Will you tell who the author is now ? " asked 
James, impatient to obtain the long-sought infor- 
mation. 

" Perhaps I will, if you are very anxious to 
know." 

" You know that I am. Who is it ? " 

" It is Benjamin Franklin." 

" What ! " exclaimed James, astonished almost 
beyond measure by the disclosure ; " do you mean 
to say that you wrote those articles ? " 

" Certainly I do." 

" But it is not your handwriting." 

" I disguised my hand in order to conceal the 
authorship." 

" Wliat could possibly be your object in doing 
so?" 

" That the articles might be fairly examined. If 
I had proposed to write an article for your paper, 
you would have said that I, a printer-boy, could 
write nothing worthy of print." 

Here the conversation dropped, and James ap- 
peared to be abstracted in thought. He said but 
little about 4he matter to Benjamin, neither com- 
mending nor censuring, until Ms literary friends 
came in again. 

' " I have discovered the author of those articles," 
said James. 



124 THE PRINTER-BOY.' 

" You have ? who can it be ? " one asked. 

" No one that you have dreamed of," answered 
James. 

"Do tell us who it is, and put an end to our 
anxiety," said one of the number, who could hardly 
wait for the desired information. 

" There he is," replied James, pointing to Benja- 
min, who was setting up types a little more briskly 
than usual. The whole company were amazed. 

" Can it be ? " cried out one ; " you are joking." 

Now Benjamin had to speak for himself ; for they 
all turned to him with their inquiries, as if they 
thought there must be some mistake or deception 
about the matter. But he found little difficulty in 
convincing them that he was the real author of the 
pieces ; whereupon they commended him in a man- 
ner that was rather perilous to one who had the 
smallest share of pride in his heart. 

From that time, Benjamin was a favorite with the 
literary visitors at the office. They showed him 
much more attention than they did James, and said 
so much in his praise, as a youth of such unusual 
promise, that James became jealous and irritable. 
He was naturally passionate and tyrannical, and 
this sudden and unexpected exaltation of Benjamin 
developed his overbearing spirit. He began to find 
fault seriously and unreasonably with him, and a 
disposition to oppress him was soon apparent. He 
went so far as to beat him severely with a rod, on 



VHE CAT OUT OF THE BAG. 125 

several occasions, reconciling the matter with his 
conscience by saying that he was master, and Ben- 
jamin was his apprentice. His whole conduct to- 
ward his younger brother was unjust and cruel, and 
the latter became restive and discontented under it. 
He made known his grievances to his father, who 
censured James for his condact,*tind took the part 
of Benjamin. But the best efforts of his father to 
reconcile matters proved abortive, because James's 
manifest opposition was so aroused against his 
brother, on account of his sudden rise to comparar 
tive distinction. Other causes might have operated 
to awaken James's hostility, but this was evidently 
a prominent one. 

Benjamin was so dissatisfied with his treatment 
that he resolved to leave his brotlier as soon as 
possible. He was indentured to him, as we have 
seen, so that it was difficult for him to get away. 
Being bound to him until he became twenty-one 
years of age, the law held him firmly there, not- 
withstanding the injustice he experienced. Still, 
for the present, he labored on in the office, and the 
paper continued to be issued. 

We are reminded that the printing-office has 
furnished many emhient scholars to the world. 
Young men have there come in contact with 
printed matter that has aroused their intell^ts to 
action, and caused them to press onward, witF''liew 
resolves, in paths of usefulness and renown. It is 



126 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

our good fortune to know several clergymen in New 
England who were printer-boys in their youth, and 
all of them rank high in their profession. One of 
them is scarcely second to any divuie in the country, 
in respect to certain endowments and attainments. 
His mental precocity was observed by some literary 
person who visitM the office, and cultivated his 
acquaintance, and this led to removing him from 
the business and placing him in a school, where he 
could enjoy the opportunity to improve his talents. 
Li the other learned professions, there are not a few 
whose love of learning was begotten, or developed, 
when they worked at this trade. 

In the case of Benjamin, the circumstance of his 
connection with the office just at the time a new 
paper was established called out a certain kind of 
talent he possessed, and thus helped to make him 
what he became. Success depends in a great meas- 
ure in early directing the young in the path to 
which their natural endown>ents point. Thus Lord 
Nelson, who distinguished himself in the service of 
his country, was early placed in just those circum 
stances that appealed to his fortitude and other 
heroic attributes. That he possessed by nature 
remarkable courage and determination, in connec- 
tion with other qualities that usually accompany 
these, is evident from an incident of his childhood. 
One day he strayed from home with a cow-boy in 
search of birds' nests, and being missed at dinner- 



THE CAT OUT CflF THE BAG. 127 

time, and inquiries made for him, the startUng sus- 
picion was awakened that he had been carried off by 
Gypsies. The alarm of liis parents was great, and a 
careful search was instituted, when he was found 
sittuig on tlie banks of a stream which he could not 
cross, unconcerned and happy. 

" I wonder, cliild," said his grandmother, when 
he was brought back m safety to the family, " that 
hunger and fear did not drive you home." 

" Fear ! " exclaimed the heroic lad, " I never saw 
fear, — what is it ? " 

He was taken by his uncle into the naval service 
while he was yet a boy, where the scenes of every 
day were suited to develop and strengthen the 
heroic qualities of liis nature. He became known 
to the world, not merely for his victories at Trafal- 
gar and on tlie Nile, but for other essential service 
rendered to his native land. 

Tlie same was true of Buxton, Wilberforce, Pas 
cal, Handel, Canova, Dr. Chalmers, and many oth- 
ers. Providence opened before them the path to 
which their native qualities directed. 

We have spoken of the advantage of occasion- 
ally writing compositions, as Benjamm was wont to 
write, and another fact illustrating this point has 
just come to our notice. It is an incident belong- 
ing to the history of the Boston Young Men's Tem- 
perance Society, ultimately connected with ^ne 
referred to in '' The Bobbin-Boy." In addition ^^ 



128 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

its being a temperance organization, it was sus- 
tained for mutual mental improvement. With 
other exercises, the- members read lectures of theii* 
own preparing at their meetings, — a very important 
and valuable arrangement. One evening a member 
delivered a lecture upon the character and objects 
of the society, which was listened to by a young 
man who dropped into the hall for the first time. 
He was so well pleased with the design of the asso- 
ciation, as set forth in the lecture, that he joined it 
at the close of the exercises. He began at once to 
fulfil tlie requirements of the society m writing 
compositions, and they were so well written that 
the autli or of the aforesaid lecture said to liim one 
evening, — 

" Why do you not write something for the press ? 
If I possessed your ability I should do it." 

The young man received the compliment with 
becoming modesty, expressing some lack of confi- 
dence in his abilities ; but it set him to thinking. 
The result was that he prepared a short article for 
a Boston paper, which was accepted ; and the way 
was thereby opened to his becoming a constant con- 
tributor to its columns. The end is not yet, though 
he is now the author of the popular " Optic Li- 
brary." Thus so small a matter as writing a brief 
article for a newspaper may herald a career of liter- 
arj' fame. 



XIV. 

THE AEKEST. 

" XX AYE YOU heard what they are doing in 

JLJL the Assembly ? '' asked Benjamin one after- 
noon, as he entered the office under considerable 
excitement, addressing his inquiry to James. 

" Doing ? '* answered James ; " doing their busi- 
ness, I suppose;" — a reply that did not indicate 
precisely his knowledge of the legislative doings, 
since he had heard of the business before them, and 
was somewhat troubled by it. 

" They are certainly going to arrest you for libel, 
and I heard a gentleman say, in the street, that they 
would show you no favor ; " and Benjamin made 
this revelation with considerable warmth of feeling. 
The idea of his brother's arrest and imprisonment 
excited him in no small degree. 

On the same day the following order was passed 
in the General Court : — 

" In Council, Jan. 1-1, 1722. 

" Whereas the paper, called the New-England 
Couraiit, of this day's date, contains many passages 
in which the Holy Scriptures are perverted, and the 
6* I 



130 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

Civil Government, Ministers, and People of this 
Province highly reflected on, 

" Ordered, That William Tailer, Samuel Sewell, 
and Penn Townsend, Esqrs., with such as the Hon- 
orable House of Representatives shall join, be a 
committee to consider and report what is proper for 
the Court to do thereon." 

The House of Representatives concurred, £,nd the 
>iommittee reported : — 

" That James Franklin, the printer and publisher 
thereof (the Courant), be strictly forbidden by this 
Court to print or publish the New-England Courant, 
or any other pamphlet or paper of the like nature, 
except it be first supervised by the Secretary of this 
Province ; and the Justices of his Majesty's Sessions 
of the Peace for the County of Suffolk, at their next 
adjournment, be directed to take sufficient bonds of 
the said Franklin for twelve months' time." 

The result was, that James was arrested and con- 
fined four weeks in the " stone gaol," from which 
he was released by his voluntary pledge to regard 
the honor of the Court. Benjamin was arrested. 
Also ; but was discharged on the ground that he 
Acted as an apprentice, and was obliged to do the 
i)idding of his master. 

It appears that there was considerable dissatisfac- 
tion in the Province with the British government, 
under which the people lived. The Courant es- 



THE ARREST. 131 

poused the cause of the dissatisfied party, and, per- 
haps unwisely, attacked the government and its 
officers, together with the ministers of the Gospel, 
whose sympathies seemed to be with the dominant 
party. It was a time of considerable excitement, 
so that a little firebrand thrown into the commu- 
nity was sure to make a great fire. But the imme- 
diate cause of his arrest was the appearance of the 
following article in his paper, which was a slur upon 
the government for tardiness in fitting out a ship 
to cruise after a pirate seen off Block Island. The 
article purported to be written by a correspondent 
in Newport, R. I., and read thus : — 

" We are advised from Boston, that the govern- 
ment of the Massachusetts are fitthig out a ship to 
go after the pirates, to be commanded by Captain 
Peter Papillon, and H is thovg-ht he ivill sail some 
time this month, ivind and tveather perjnitting.^' 

This well-pointed censure, in connection with the 
many flings and attacks that had preceded it, 
aroused the General Court to act in their defence 
without delay. 

The club under whose auspices the Courant was 
conducted assembled at the office as soon as they 
knew the decision of the Court, to consider what 
should be done. 

"It is certain," said one, " that you cannot con- 
tinue to issue the paper against the action of the 
Court." 



132 THE PRINTEK-BOY. 

" Not in his own name," suggested another. " It 
may still be published in the name of another per- 
son, and thus the legislative order will be evaded." 

" How will it do to issue it in Benjamin's name ? " 
inquired James. 

" That cannot be done, for he is only an appren 
tice, as could be very readily proved," was the 
reply. 

" I can easily meet that difficulty," answered 
James, who was usually ready for a shrewd evasion 
in such a case. 

" Pray, tell us how," asked one of the number, 
who was disposed to thmk that the days of the Cou- 
rant were numbered. " By changing the name ? " 

"No, I would not change the name. I will re- 
turn his indenture, with his discharge upon the back 
of it, and he can show it in case of necessity. "We 
can understand the matter between us, while he will 
be his own man whenever any trouble may arise 
about his apprenticeship." 

AJl agreed that this plan would work well, and it 
was accordingly adopted. 

" Benjamm Franldin, publisher and proprietor," 
said one of the club, rising from liis seat and pattmg 
Benjamin on the shoulder. " What do you tlmik of 
that, my son ? Rather of a young fellow to under- 
take such an enterprise, but a match, I guess, for 
the General Court of the Province." 

Benjamin was quite unprepared to reply to the 



THE ARREST. 133 

merriment of the club on the occasion over hjs unex- 
pected introduction to an office of which he did not 
dream in the morning. He was now to appear be- 
fore the public in quite another relation than that of 
apprentice, — probably the youngest conductor of a 
newspaper who ever lived in our country, for he was 
only sixteen years of age. 

Henceforth the paper appeared in the name of 
Benjamin Franklin, occasioning, by all the circum- 
stances, no little excitement in town. 

James was conveyed to prison, and during his 
confinement, Benjamin had the whole management 
of the paper, in which he took occasion to speak very 
plauily and boldly against the government. Not- 
withstanduig the difficulty that existed between liim 
and his brother, liis heart was stirred with resent- 
ment against the Court for sending him to jail, and 
he espoused his cause with as much sympathy and 
good-will apparently, as he could have done if no 
difference had disturbed their intercourse. This was 
honorable in Benjamin, and showed that he possessed 
a true brother's heart. For three years the paper 
was published in his name, although he did not re- 
main with James so long. 

We have referred to the time of Benjamin's boy- 
hood as a period of public excitement and disturb- 
ance. Great alarm was frequently occasioned, for 
some time before and some time after his birth, by 
the depredations of the Indians. The French were 



134 THE PEINTEK-BOY. 

hostile to Great Britain ; so they sought to stir up, 
and ally themselves with, the savages, in making 
inroads upon the Colonies. The consequence was, 
" wars and rumors of wars," with actual massacres 
and bloodshed. Benjamin's ears, in his early life, 
were often saluted with the harrowing tales of slaugh- 
ter and conflagration, an experience that may have 
qualified him, in a measure, to act the prominent 
part he did in achieving the independence of his 
country, half a century thereafter. Rev. Dr. Wil- 
lard, who baptized him, was driven from the town 
of Groton by the Indians in 1675. Later still, only 
three years before the birth of Benjamin, the town 
of Deerfield was attacked and burned by these sav- 
age tribes, instigated and led on by the French, — 
and "upwards of forty persons were slain, and more 
than a hundred were made prisoners." " When the 
sun was an hour high, the work was finished, and 
the enemy took their departure, leaving the snow 
reddened with blood, and the deserted village en- 
veloped in flames." Only two or three years after 
his birth, the famous attack upon Haverhill was 
made, when the Indians massacred men, women, 
and children indiscriminately, a few only escaping 
their terrible vengeance. The stories of such dread- 
ful cruelties and sufierings were fresh in Benjamin's 
boyhood, and their effect upon the youthful mind 
was heightened by the frequent reports of outbreaks 
and anticipated Indian attacks from different quar- 



THE AEREST. 185 

ters. Tims born and reared in troublous times, our 
liero was prepared to work out his destiny in tlie 
most perilous period of American history. 

A single item published in the Courant about this 
time, will show the young reader that Boston and its 
environs of that early day did not much resemble 
the same city now. The item is the following : — 

"It is thought that not less than 20 Bears have 
been killed in about a week's time within two miles 
of Boston. Two have been killed below the Castle, 
as they were swimming from one island to another, 
and one attempted to board a boat out in the bay, 
but the men defended themselves so well with the 
boat-hook and oars, that they put out her eyes, and 
then killed her. On Tuesday last two were killed at 
Dorchester, one of which weighed 60 pounds a quar- 
ter. We hear from Providence that the bears ap- 
pear to be very thick in those parts." 



XV. 

THE EUNAWAY. 

NOT LONG after James was released from 
prison, a fresh difficulty arose between Benja- 
min and himself. In the quarrel they seemed to 
forget that they were brothers, who ought to be 
united by strong ties of affection. James contin- 
ued to be passionate and domineering, treating his 
brother with harshness, sometimes even beating 
him, notwithstanding he was the nominal publisher 
and editor of a paper. Benjamin thought he was 
too old to be treated thus, — whipped like a little 
boy, — and the result was that he asserted his free- 
dom. 

" I am my own man from this time," he cried, 
holding up his indenture which his brother returned 
to him, as we saw in a former chapter, in order to 
evade the officers of justice. " These papers make 
me free, and I shall take advantage of them to leave 
you," and he fairly shook them in James's face. 

" You know that I never gave them up because I 
relinquished the bargain we had made," said James. 
" If you use them to assert your freedom, you will 
be guilty of a base act." 



THE RUNAWAY. 137 

"1 shall so use the papers," replied Benjamin, 
defiantly. " I have borne such treatment long 
enough, and I shall submit no longer." 

" We shall see about that," continued James. 
" Father will have a word to say about it, you will 
find." 

" Yes, and he will probably say that you have 
abused me, and that you ought to control your 
temper and treat me better," responded Benjamin. 
'' He always has decided in my favor, and I have 
no fears about his decision now." 

It was not fair in Benjamin to take this advantage 
of his brother, and he knew it, but his resentment 
triumphed over his regard for right at the time. 
James returned his indenture only that he might be 
able to publish the paper unmolested. It was a de- 
ceitful arrangement in the first place, and Benja- 
min's use of the papers to assert his liberty was no 
more unfair and sinful than was James's device to 
make him the proprietor of the paper, and thus 
evade the law. James was paid in his own coin. 
He laid a plan to cheat the government, and he got 
cheated himself. He was snared in the work of his 
own hands. This, however, did not justify Benja- 
min in his course, as he afterwards saw, and frankly 
confessed. 

Benjamin persisted in asserting his freedom, and 
James appealed to his father. After the latter had 
examined the affair, all the while knowing that 



188 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

James was passionate and overbearing, he decided 
against Benjamin. Tlie advantage wliich the latter 
took of James to gain his freedom probably influ 
enced Mr. Franklin to decide in favor of the former. 
This was unexpected to Benjamin, and was not 
received with a very good grace. It did not change 
his determination, however, and he was still resolved 
to be free. He refused to labor any more for his 
brother, and went forth to look for employment else- 
where. There were a number of other printers in 
town, to whom he applied for work ; but he found, 
to his surprise, that his brother had anticipated him, 
and been round to persuade them not to hire him. 

" He has violated a solemn contract," said he to 
one, " and he will violate any contract he will make 
with you. Besides, if you refuse to hire him, he 
will be obliged to return and labor for me." 

The printers all sympathized with James, and 
accordingly refused to give Benjamin work. He 
found himself in a very unpleasant situation on that 
account, without the means of earning his bread, 
and, in one sense, without a home, since he had dis- 
regarded his father's counsel in not returning to his 
brother. He learned, also, that some good people 
considered him no better than an infidel. 

" Nothing less than the loosest sceptic," said one 
good man. *' He hates the truth with all his heart, 
as much that he writes plainly shows. His influ- 
ence in the community is very bad, and it is grow- 
ing worse and worse." 



THE RUNAWAY. 139 

Good people thus misjudged Benjamin. Some 
went so far as to call him an " atheist." His 
attacks upon the clergy and government, in his 
paper, created so much excitement, that he was 
uiiderstood to mean worse than he did. 

All these things served to wean Benjamin from 
Boston, and he concluded that he would seek his 
fortune elsewhere. He embraced the first oppor- 
tmiity to confer with his old friend, John Collins, 
on the subject. 

" John, I am going to New York," he said. 

" To New York ? " exclaimed John. " What has 
started you off there ? " 

" Enough to start anybody. I have been banged 
about long enough, and now can get no work at all ; 
so I must go or starve." 

" How so ? " mquired John, " I don't imderstand 
you ? " 

" The case is just this," said Benjamin. " James 
has treated me very harshly for a long time, and I 
have submitted. But I had a good opportunity to 
make myself free, and I have improved it. When 
James was put into prison for libel, he returned to 
me my indenture with my discharge written on the 
back, to show in case the government mterfered 
with my publishing the paper. He did not mean, 
of course, that I should be released from my obli- 
gations to him ; but he has treated me so unmer- 
cifully lately that I have taken advantage of the 
paper, and broken my engagement with him." 



140 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" You have got round Mm this time, surely," 
said John. " How does he feel about it ? " 

" He has appealed to father, and father has decid- 
ed against me, and advised me to go back ; but I 
am not at all disposed to do it." 

" I would work in some other printing-office," 
added John, '' before I would go to New York." 

" But I can get work nowhere else. I have been 
to every office, and they all refuse to employ me, 
because my brother went to them before me, and 
told liis story, and made them promise not to hire 
me." 

" I suppose he thought by so doing to compel you 
to come back to him," suggested John. 

" I suppose so ; l^ut he will find himself mis- 
taken. I shall go to New York as soon as I can 
get away." 

" What does your father say about your going ofi 
so far?" 

" I have said nothing to him about it, and do not 
intend to. He would stop my gomg at once if he 
knew it." 

" How can you get away without letting him 
know it ? " 

" That remains to be seen," answered Benja- 
min. " I shall want some of your help about it, 
I guess." 

" I am at your service," said John, " though it 
seems very little that I can do to hasten your 



THE RUNAWAY. 141 

flight ; " but he had hardly uttered the last sentence 
before a new thought flashed upon his mmd, and 
he added with great earnestness, " Yes 1 can, too ; 
I have seen the captain of that New York sloop in 
the harbor, and I can make a bargaui with him to 
take you there." 

" But he will want to know who I am, and will 
refuse to take me when he finds that I am a rim 
away." 

" I can manage that, if you will leave it to me," 
answered John. " I will pledge you that he will 
never know that your name is Franklin." 

.." I agree, then, to commit myself to your care. 
See that you manage the afiair well, for to New 
York I must go." 

They parted ; and John hurried away to see the 
aforesaid captain. 

" Can you take a friend of mine to New York ? " 
he asked. 

" That depends on circumstances," answered the 
captain. " Who is your friend ? " — a very natu- 
ral inquiry, — precisely such a one as Benjamin 
thought would be made. 

"He is a young man about my age, a printer, 
and he is going to New York to get work," repHed 
John. 

" Why don't he get work in Boston ? " mquired 
the cap tarn. 

John saw that there was no evading the captain's 



142 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

questions, and so he suddenly resolved to fabricate 
a story, in other words, to tell a base lie. 

" Well," said John, " if I must tell you the whole 
story, the case is this. He is a young fellow who 
has been flirting with a girl, who wants to marry 
him, and now her parents are determined that he 
shall marry her, and he is determined that he will 
not, and he proposes to remove secretly to New 
York. He would have come to see you himself, but 
it is not safe for him to appear out so publicly, 
and therefore he sent me to do the business." 

A youth who can fabricate a falsehood so unblush- 
ingly as John did this is a candidate for ruin. The 
reader will not be surprised to learn, before the 
whole story is told, that he became a miserable, 
wicked man. This single lie proved that he was 
destitute of moral principle, and would do almost 
anything to carry his project. 

For some unaccountable reason, the captain was 
taken with this device, and consented to carry Ben- 
jamin to New York. He arranged to receive him 
clandestinely, and to have him on his way before 
any suspicion of his plans was awakened. 

John hastened to inform Benjamui of the success 
of Ms enterprise, and to congratulate Mm upon his 
fair prospect of getting away. 

" Money is the next thmg," said Benjamin. " I 
can't go without money. I must sell my books for 
Bomething, though nI dislike to part with them." 



THE RUNAWAY. 143 

" They will sell quick enough," said John, " and 
will bring you a very pretty sum to start with. 

Benjamin lost no time in disposing of his little 
library for what it would bring, and he managed to 
get his clothes together without exciting suspicion ; 
and, with the assistance of John, he boarded the 
sloop privately just before she sailed. 

" Good luck to you, Ben,'* said John, as they 
shook hands. 

" Good by," answered Benjamin with a heavy 
heart, just beginning to feel that he was going away 
from home. " See that you tell no tales out of 
school." 

Thus they parted ; and the sloop sailed for New 
York, where she arrived in three days. Benjamin 
did not know a person in that city, nor had he a 
single letter of recommendation to any one, and the 
money in his pocket was but a trifle. It was in Oc- 
tober, 1723, that he arrived in New York. Think 
of a lad seventeen years of age running away from 
home, entering a large city without a solitary ac- 
quauitance, and possessing scarcely money enough 
to pay for a week's board ! He must have carried 
some sad, lonely feelings in his heart along those 
strange streets, and possibly his conscience sorely 
upbraided him for his course. 

Benjamin behaved very unwisely and wickedly m 
this affair. Although his brother was severely harsh 
in his treatment of him, it was not sufficient reason 



144 THE PRINTEE-BOY. 

for his riinniiig away from home, and he was quite 
thoroughly con\dnced of this at an early day. Such 
an act is one of the most flagrant sms that a youth 
can commit, although circumstances may render it 
less guilty in some cases than in others. In the 
case of Benjamin, the unkind treatment which he 
received at the hand of his brother relieved his sin 
somewhat, though it by no means excused it. 

There is not a more unpleasant occurrence in the 
whole life of Benjamin Franklin than this quarrel 
with his brother. We charge the difficulty mainly 
upon James, of course, but this does not blot out 
the unpleasantness of the affair. A quarrel between 
brothers is always painful in the extreme, and is 
discreditable to all parties concerned. Dr. Watts 
has very beautifully written, for the admonition of 
little children, what older ones may well pondir: — 

" Whatever brawls, disturb the street, 
There should be peace at home : 
Where sisters dwell and brothers meet, 
Quarrels should never come. 

" Birds in their little nests agree ; 
And 't is a shameful sight, 
When children of one family 
Fall out, and chide, and fight. 

" Hard names, at first, and threatening words, 
That are but noisy breath. 
May grow to clubs and naked swords, 
To murder and to death." 



THE RUNAWAY. 145 

At this crisis of Benjamin's life, it seemed as if 
he was on the highway to ruin. There is scarcely 
one similar case in ten, where the runaway escapes 
the vortex of degradation. Benjamin would not 
have been an exception, but for his early religious 
culture and the grace of God. 

The case of William Hutton, who was the son of 
very poor parents, is not altogether unlike that of 
Benjamin Franklin. He was bound to his uncle 
for a series of years, but he treated him so harshly 
that he ran away, at seventeen years of age. The 
record is, that " on the 12th day of July, 1741, the 
ill-treatment he received from his uncle, in the 
shape of a brutal flogging, with a birch-broom han- 
dle of white hazel, which almost killed him, caused 
him to run away." A dark prospect was before 
liim, smce " he had only twopence in his pocket, 
a spacious world before him, and no plan of oper- 
ation." Yet he afterwards became an author of 
some celebrity, and a most exemplary and esteemed 
man. He lived to the age of ninety, his last days 
being gladdened by the, reflection of having lived a 
useful life, and the consciousness of sharing the con- 
fidence of his fellow-meui 



XVI. 

ANOTHEK TEIP AND ITS TEIALS. 

ON ARRIYINa at New York, Benjamin applied 
to a well-known printer, Mr. William Brad- 
ford, for work. 

" Where are you from ? '* he inqnired. 

" From Boston," was Benjamin's reply. 

" Used to the printing business ? " 

" Yes, that is my trade. I have worked at it 
several years." 

" I am sorry I cannot employ you. But just now 
my business is small, and I have all the help I 
need." 

" What do you think of the prospect of getting 
work at some other office in the town ? " inquired 
Benjamin. 

" Not very flattering, I am sorry to say. Dull 
times, my son, vety dull indeed. But I can tell 
you where you can find employment, I think. My 
son carries on the printing business in Philadelphia, 
and one of his men died the other day. I think he 
would be glad to employ you." 

" How far is it to Philadelphia ? " 



ANOTHER TRIP AND ITS TRIALS. 147 

" It is a hundred miles," replied Mr. Bradford, 
" a much shorter distance than you have already 
travelled." 

Benjamin looked somewhat disappointed when 
he found that Philadelphia was a hundred miles 
farther ; still, he was after work, and he was deter- 
mined to find it ; so he made inquiries about the 
mode of conveyance, and left Mr. Bradford, thank- 
ing him for his kindness. Immediately he engaged 
a passage in a boat to Amboy, and made arrange- 
ments for his chest to be carried round by sea. He 
was less disheartened, probably, on account of the 
assurance of Mr. Bradford that his son would em- 
ploy him. If he could procure work by travelling 
a hundred miles more, he would cheerfully do it, al- 
though a journey of a hundred miles then was about 
equal to one thousand now. 

At the appointed time Benjamin went aboard, and 
the boat started. She had not proceeded far when a 
squall struck her, tore her rotten sails to pieces, and 
drove her upon Long Island. Before this, however, 
a drunken Dutchman, who was also a passenger, fell 
overboard, and would have lost his life but for the 
timely assistance of our printer-boy. Sprmging to 
the side of the boat, Benjamin reached over and 
seized him by the hair of his head as he rose, and 
drew him on board. 

" He may thank you for saving his life," exclaimed 
one of the boatmen. 



148 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" He is too drunk for that," answered Benjamin. 
" It will sober liim some, however, I am thinking. 
He came within one of giving up the ghost. Hal- 
loo, here, you Dutchman ! " (turning to the drunken 
man,) " how do you like diving ? " 

The Dutchman mumbled over something, and, 
pulling a book out of his pocket, asked Benjamin 
to dry it for him, which he promised to do. Soon 
the poor, miserable fellow was fast asleep, in spite of 
the wet and danger, and Benjamin examined the 
drenched volume, which proved to be Bunyan's Pil- 
grim's Progress, in Dutch, a favorite book of his a 
few years before. It was a very good companion for 
even a drunken Dutchman to have ; but Benjamin 
could not but think that its contents were not so fa- 
miliar to the unfortunate possessor as the bottle. 

On approaching Long Island they found that there 
was no place to land, and the beach was very stony ; 
so " they dropped anchor, and swung out their cable 
towards the shore." Some men came down to the 
shore and hallooed to them, and they returned the 
shout. Seeing some small boats lying along the 
shore, they cried out as loudly as possible, " A 
boat ! a boat ! " and made signs to them to come 
to their assistance ; but the wind was so boisterous 
that neither party could understand the other. 

After several fruitless attempts on both sides to 
be heard, and night coming on, the men on the shore 
went home, and left Benjamin and the boatmen to 
their perils. 



ANOTmR TRIP AND ITS TRIALS. 149 

" There is only one thing to be done," said the 
captain, " when we get into such a predicament." 

" What is that ? " asked Benjamin. 

" To do nothing but wait patiently till the wind 
abates," answered the captain, rather coolly. 

" Then let us turn in with the Dutcliman tc 
tjleep," said one of the boatmen. " It is n't best 
for him to have all the good things." 

All agreed to this, and soon they were crowded 
into the hatches, Benjamin among the number. But 
the spray broke over the head of the boat so much 
that the water leaked tlirough upon them, until they 
were about as wet as the Dutchman. This was hard 
fare for Benjamin, who had been accustomed to a 
comfortable bed and regular sleep. It was impossi- 
ble for him to rest in such a plight, and he had all 
the more time to think. He thought of home, and 
the friends he had left behind, of the comfortable 
quarters he had exchanged for his present wet and 
perilous berth, and he began to feel that he had paid 
too dear for his ivhistle. Runaways usually feel thus 
sooner or later, smce few of them ever realize their 
anticipations. 

The cold, dreary night wore away slowly, and the 
wind continued to howl, and the breakers to dash 
and roar, until after the dawn of the following morn- 
ing. Benjamin was never more rejoiced to see day- 
light appear than he was after that dismal and peril- 
ous night. It was the more pleasant to liim because 



150 THE PRINTER-BO r. 

the wind began to abate, and there was a fairer pros- 
pect of reaching their place of destination. As soon 
as the tumult of the wind and waves had subsided, 
they weighed anchor, and steered for Amboy, where 
they arrived just before night, " having been thirty 
liours on the water without victuals, or any drink 
but a bottle of filthy rum." 

In the evening Benjamin found himself feverish, 
having taken a severe cold by the exposure of the 
previous night. With a hot head and a heavy heart 
he retired to rest, first, however, drmking largely oi 
cold water, because he had somewhere read that cold 
water was good for fever. This was one of the ad- 
vantages he derived from his early habit of reading. 
But for his taste for reading, which led him to spend 
his leisure moments in poring over books, he might 
never have known this important fact, that perhaps 
saved him a fit of sickness. Availing himself of this 
knowledge, he drank freely of water before he re- 
tired, and the consequence was, that he sweat most 
of the night, and arose the next morning compara- 
tively well. So much advantage from loving books ! 

Boys never h^ve occasion to deplore the habit of 
reading, provided their books are well chosen. They 
usually find that they are thrice paid for all the time 
spent in this way. Sooner or later they begin to 
reap the benefits of so wise a course. A few years 
since, a young man was travelling in the State of 
Mame, procuring subscribers to a newspaper. On 



ANOTHER TRIP AND ITS TRIALS. 151 

passing a certain farm, he observed some bricks of a 
peculiar color, and he traced them to their clay-bed, 
and satisfied himself that the material could be ap- 
plied to a more valuable purpose than that of making 
bricks. He at once purchased the farm for fifteen 
hundred dollars, and, on his return to Boston, sold 
one half of it for four thousand dollars. The secret 
of his success lay in a bit of knowledge he acquired 
at school. He had given some attention to geology 
and chemistry, and the little knowledge he had 
gleaned therefrom enabled him to discover the na- 
ture of the clay on said farm. Thus even a little 
knowledge, that may be gleaned from a book hi a 
single leisure half-hour, will sometimes prove the 
key to a valuable treasure ; much more valuable than 
the farm which the young man purchased. For this 
pecuniary benefit is, after all, the least important 
advantage derived from reading. The discipline of 
the mind and heart, and the refined and elevated 
pleasure which it secures, are far more desirable 
than any pecuniary good it bestows. A little read- 
ing, also, sometimes gives an impulse to the mind hi 
the direction of learning and renow^. It was the 
reading of Echard's Roman History, wliicli Gibbon 
met with wlnle on a visit to Wiltsliire, that opened 
before him the historic path to distinction. 

Let the reader consider these things. Never say, 
as hundreds of boys do, " I hate books, and wish 1 
Tas not obliged to go to school. There is no use in 



152 THE PRINTER-BOT. 

reading and studying so much ; we shall get along 
just as well without it." This class of boys usually 
have to regret, xinder mortifying circumstances, in 
later life, that they wasted their early opportunities 
to acquire knowledge. Sir Walter Scott, in liis boy- 
hood, joined in the tirade of idlers agamst books ; 
but in manhood he said : " K it should ever fall to 
the lot of youth to peruse these pages, let such 
readers remember that it is with the deepest regret 
that I recollect, in my manhood, the opportunities 
of learning which I neglected in my youth; that 
through every part of my literary career I have felt 
pinched and hampered by my own ignorance ; and I 
would this moment give half the reputation I have 
had the good fortune to acquire, if by so doing I 
could rest the remaining part upon a sound founda- 
tion of learning ^d science." 

But we have lost sight of Benjamin. We left 
him at the tavern in Amboy, after having passed 
the night in a cold-water sweat, about ready for a 
start on his journey. Burlington was fifty miles 
from Amboy, and there was no public conveyance, 
so that he wa^ obliged to go on foot, expecting to 
find a boat there bound for Philadelphia. It was 
raining hard, and yet he started upon tlie journey, 
and trudged on through the storm and mud, eager 
to see Burlington. He was thoroughly drenched 
before he had travelled five miles, and, in this con- 
dition, he walked on rapidly till noon, when lie 



ANOTHER TRIP AND ITS TRIALS. 153 

came ;c a " poor iim," and stopped. Being wet 
and tired, he resolved to remain there luitil the 
next day. The innkeeper's suspicions were awak- 
ened by Benjamin's appearance, and he questioned 
liim rather closely. 

^' Where are you from, my lad ? '* 

^' From Boston, sir ? " 

" Hey ! and away off here so far ? quite a young- 
ster for such a trip. What 's your name ? " 

" My name is Benjamin Franklin, and I am going 
to Philadelphia after work." 

"No work in Boston I 'spose, hey? How long 
since you left home ? " 

" About a week. I did not expect to go farther 
than New York when I started, but I could get no 
work there." 

" No work, hey ? what sort of w'ork are you after 
that you find it so scarce ? " 

"I am a printer by trade, and I hope to get into 
a printing-office in Philadelphia." 

'^ Wall, you are a pretty young one to go so far ; 
would hardly be willing that a son of mine should 
make such a trip alone, printer or n^^ printer." 

Benjamin saw that he was suspected of being a 
runaway, and he felt very uncomfortable. He man- 
aged, however, to answer 'all questions without sat- 
isfying the curiosity of the family. He ate and 
slept there, and on the following morning pro- 
ceeded on his journey, and by night was within 
7* 



154 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

eight or ten miles of Burlington. Here he stopped 
at an inn kept by one Dr. Brown, " an ambulating 
quack doctor." He was a very social and observing 
man, and soon discovered that Benjamin was a 
youth of unusual intelligence for one of his age. 
He conversed with him freely about Boston and 
other places, and gave a particular account of some 
foreign countries which he had visited. In this way 
he made Benjamin's brief stay with him very pleas- 
ant, and they became friends for life, meeting many 
times thereafter on friendly terms. 

The next morning he reluctantly bade the Doctor 
good by, and proceeded to Burlington, where he ex- 
pected to find a boat. In the suburbs of the town- 
he bought some gingerbread of an old woman who 
kept a shop, and walked on, eating it as he went. 
To his great disappointment, on reaching the wharf, 
he found the boat had gone, and there would not 
De another until Tuesday. It was now Saturday, 
and his money would not hold out if he should get 
boarded at a public house till then. What should 
he do ? After some reflection, he concluded to go 
back to the old lady of whom he bought his ginger- 
bread, as he liked her appearance very well, and ask 
her advice. So back he went. 

" Ah ! back again ? " said she, as he entered her 
shop. " Want more gingerbread I 'spose." 

" No," answered Benjamin. " I was going to 
take the boat to Philadelphia, but it has gone, and 
there is not another to go until Tuesday." 



AA^OTHER TRIP AND ITS TRIALS. 1^5 

" Lor me ! '' exclaimed the kind-hearted woman ; 
" if that ain't too bad. What kin ye du ? '' 

" That is what I want to ask you. Is there any 
^other conveyance to Philadelphia ? " 

" Lor, no, and all ye has to du is to make the 
best on't." 

" And what is that ? That is just what I want 
to know, — the best thing for me to do in such a 
case." 

" What ye goin' to Philadelphy for ? " inquired 
the old lady. 

"I am going after work. I am a printer, and 
want to find work in a printing-office." 

"A printer, lor!" exclaimed the woman, who had 
probably never seen one before. "Dear me, yer 
fortm is made to set up business in this ere town. 
There is nothin' of the like here." 

" I have notliing to set up the business with 
here," rephed Benjamin. " I would as lief work 
here as in Philadelphia, if the way was open." 

The woman did not know what was necessary in 
setting up a printing establishment. That types and 
a press were indispensable articles in such busi- 
ness she did not dream. She thought, doubtless, 
that he carried all necessary fixtures with him, in 
his pockets. 

" Lor, then, I '11 lodge ye till Tuesday for " 

(naming the sum). 

" I will stay with you, then, and make the best 
of it," he replied. 



156 Tin: rnixTKR-BOY. 

ITc found liimsclf in very good quarters, and liia 
host proved herself to be very kind and hospitable. 
He took dinner with her, and remained about the 
shop until towards night, when he walked forth to 
view the place. In his walk he came round to the 
river, and as he approached it, he discovered a boat 
with several people in it, and he hailed them. 

" Whither bound ? " 

" To Philadelphia." 

" Can you take me in? I was too late for the boat 
to-day." 

'^ As well as not," a voice replied ; and the boat 
was turned to receive its additional passenger. 
There was no wind, so that they w^ere obliged to 
depend on rowing for progress. Benjamin now 
found a rare opportunity to exercise the skill at 
rowhig which he cultivated in Boston. He was so 
elated with the prospect of proceeding on his way 
to Philadelphia, that he thought neither of the fa- 
tigue of rowing, nor of the wonder of the old lady 
in the shop at the imexpected disappearance of her 
boarder. He did not mean to treat her disrespect- 
fully, for he considered her a very clever woman, 
but the boat could not wait for him to return and 
pay her his compliments. Whether she ^ver 
learned what became of him, or that he grew up 
to be Dr. Franklin, the great philosopher, we have 
no means of knowing. Doubtless she concluded 
that she had not entertained an *' angel unawai-es," 



ANOTHER TRIP AND ITS TRIALS. 157 

but had rather aided an undeserving fellow iii pur- 
cuing a vieious course, — which was not true. 

Tha boat went on. Benjamin rowed with strong 
resolution, taking his turn with others, until mid- 
night, when one of the company said : " We must 
have passed the city. It can't be that we have been 
so long getting to it." 

" That is impossible," said another. " We must 
have seen it, if we had passed it." 

" Well, I shall row no more," added the first 
speaker. " I know that Philadelphia is not so far 
oif as this." 

" Let us put for the shore," said a thbrd person, 
" and find out wfiere we are, if possible." 

" Agreed," rephed several voices ; and so saying 
they rowed toward the shore, and entered a small 
creek^ where they landed near an old fence, the 
rails of which furnished them with fuel for a fire. 
They were very chilly, it being a frosty night of 
October, and they found the fire very grateful. 
They remained there till daylight, when one of the 
company knew that the place was " Cooper's 
Creek," a few miles above the " City of Brotherly 
Love." Immediately they made preparations to 
continue their journey, which had not been alto- 
gether unpleasant, and they were soon in full view 
of the city, where they arrived between eight and 
nine o'clock on Sunday morning. They landed 
at Market Street Wharf. Taking out his money, 



158 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

■which consisted of one unbroken dollar, and ^' a 
shilling in copper coin, he offered the latter to the 
boatmen for his passage." 

" Not a cent, my good fellow," said one of them, 
" you worked your passage, and did it well, too." 

"But you must take it," responded Benjamin. 
" You are quite welcome to all the rowing I have 
done. I am glad enough to get here by rowing and 
paying my passage too. But for your coming along 
to take me in, I should have been obliged to stay 
in Burlington until next Tuesday;" and he faiily 
forced the sliilling into their hands. This is an act 
of generosity, for which Benjamin was always dis- 
tinguished. He was no mean, niggardly fellow, not 
he. Although he was in a stranger city, and had 
but a single dollar left on which to live until he 
could earn something by daily toil, yet he cheerfully 
gave the change for his passage. He felt grateful to 
them for taking him in, and he would give expres- 
sion to his gratitude in this generous way. It was 
noble, too, in the boatmen to refuse to take the 
shilling. It was only by his insisting upon their 
receiving it, that they consented to take it. A kind- 
hearted, generous set of fellows were in that boat, 
and Benjamin was not inferior to one of them m 
that respect. Bidding them good morning, he walk- 
ed up Market Street, where he met a boy eating 
some bread. 

" Where did you get your bread, boy ? " he in- 
Quired. 



ANOTHER TRIP AKD ITS TRIALS. 159 

" Over to the baker's, there," he replied, pointing 
to a shop that was near by. 

Benjamin was very tired and hungry, having eaten 
nothing suice he dined with the old shop-woman in 
Burlington, on the day before ; and, for this reason, 
the boy's bread was very tempting. Besides, he had 
made many a meal of dry bread when he boarded 
himself in Boston ; and now it was not hard at all 
for him to breakfast on unbuttered bread, minus 
both tea and coffee. He hastened to the bakery, 
and found it open. 

" Have you biscuit ? " he inquired, meaning such 
as he was accustomed to eat in Boston. 

" We make notliing of the kind," answered the 
proprietor. 

" You may give me a three-penny loaf, then." 

" We have none." 

Benjamin began to think that he should have to 
go hungry still, since he did not know the names 
or prices of the kinds of bread made in Philadel- 
pliia. But in a moment he recovered himself, and 
said : " Then give me three-pennyworth of any sort." 

To his surprise, the baker gave him three great 
puffy rolls, enough to satisfy half a dozen hungry 
persons. He looked at it, scarcely knowing at first 
what he could do with so much, but, as " necessity 
is the mother of invention," he soon discovered 
a way of disposing of it. He put a roll under 
each arm, and taking the third in his hand he 



160 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

proceeded to eat it, as he continued his way up 
Market Street. 

Let the reader stop here, and take a view of Ben- 
jamin Frankhn, the runaway youth, as he made his 
first appearance in the city of Philadelphia. See 
him trudging up Market Street with his worn, 
dirty clothes, (his best suit having been sent around 
by sea,) his pockets stuffed out with sliirts and 
stockings, and a " puffy roll" under each arm, and 
a third in his hand of which he is eating ! A com- 
ical appearance certainly ! It is not very probable 
that this runaway Benjamin will ever become " Min- 
ister Plenipotentiary to the Court of France," op 
surprise the world by his philosophical discoveries ! 
There is much more probability that he will live in 
some obscure printing-office, and die " unknown, 
unhonored, and unsung." Who wonders that a 
young lady. Miss Read, who was standing in the 
door of her father's residence as Benjamin passed, 
thought he made a very awkward and ridiculous 
appearance ? She little thought that she was tak- 
ing a bird's-eye ^iew of her future husband, as the 
youth with the rolls of bread under his arm proved 
to be. But just then he cared more for bread than 
he did for her ; some years after, the case was re- 
versed, and he cared more for her than he did for 
bread. 

Turninor- down Chestnut Street he continued to 
walk until he came round to the wharf where he 



ANOTHER TRIP AND ITS TRIALS. IGl 

landed. Being thirsty, he went to the boat for 
water, where he found the woman and child who 
came down the river with them on the previous 
night, waiting to go further. 

" Are you hungry ? " he inquired of the child, 
who lool^ed wistfully at his bread. 

" We are both very hungry," answered tlie wo- 
man, speaking for herself and child. 

"I have satisfied my hunger," said Benjamin, 
" and you may have the rest of my bread if you 
would like it," at the same time passing both rolls 
to her. 

" You are very kind indeed," responded the wo- 
man. " I thank you many times for it ; " — all of 
which was as good pay for the bread as Benjamin 
wanted. This was another instance of his generos- 
ity, for which he was highly distinguished through 
his whole life. An American statesman said of him, 
in a eulogy delivered in Boston : " No form of per- 
sonal suffering or social evil escaped his attention, 
or appealed in vain for such relief or remedy as his 
prudence could suggest, or his purse supply. From 
that day of his early youth, when, a wanderer from 
liis home and friends in a strange place, he was seen 
sharing his rolls with a poor woman and child, to 
the last act of his public life, when he signed that 
well known memorial to Congress, a spirit of ear- 
nest and practical benevolence runs like a golden 
thread along liis whole career." 



162 THE rRINTP:R-BOY. 

He then walked up the street agam, and found 
well-dressed people going to church. Joining in^ 
the current, notwithstanding his appearance, he 
went with them into the large Quaker meeting- 
house that stood near the market. He took his 
seat, and waited for the services to begin, either not 
knowing what Quakers did at meeting, or else being 
ignorant that he was among this sect. As nothing 
was said, and he was weary and exhausted with the 
labors and watchings of the previous night, he be- 
came drowsy, and soon dropped into a sweet sleep. 
His nap might have proved a very unfortunate event 
for him, but for the kindness of a wide-awake Qua- 
ker. For he did not wake up when the meeting 
closed, and the congregation might have dispersed, 
and the sexton locked him in, without disturbing 
his slumbers. But the kind-hearted Quaker moved 
his spirit by giving him a gentle rap on the shoul- 
der. He started up, s'omewhat surprised that the 
service was over, and passed out with the crowd. 
Soon after, meeting a fine-looking young Quaker, 
who carried his heart in his face, Benjamin in- 
quired, " Can you tell me where a stranger can get 
a night's lodging ? " 

" Here," answered the Quaker, " is a house where 
they receive strangers," (pointing to the sign of the 
Three Mariners near which they stood,) " but it is 
not a reputable one ; if thee will walk with me I 
will show thee a better one." 



ANOTHER TRIP AND ITS TRIALS. 1G3 

" I will be obliged to you for doing so," an- 
swered Benjamin. " I was never in Philadelphia 
before, and am not acquainted with one person 
here." 

The Quaker conducted him to Water Street, and 
showed him the Crooked Billet, — a house where 
he might be accommodated. Benjamin thanked 
him for his kindness, entered the house, and called 
for dinner and a room. While sitting at the dinner- 
table, his host asked, " Where are you from ? " 

" I am from Boston ? " 

" Boston ! " exclaimed the host, with some sur- 
prise. " How long since you left home ? " 

This question being answered, he continued, 
" Have you friends in Philadelphia ? " 

" None at all. I do not know a single person 
here." 

" What did you come here for ? " 

" I came to get work in a printing-office. I am 
a printer by trade." 

" How old are you ? " 

" I am seventeen years old, sir," replied Benja- 
min, just beginning to perceive that the man sus- 
pected him of being a runaway. 

" And came all the way from Boston alone ? " 

" Yes, sir ! " 

Benjamin closed the conversation as soon as he 
could conveniently, after perceiving that his appear- 
ance had excited suspicions, and went to his room. 



164 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

where he lay down and slept till six o'clock in 
the evening, when he was called to supper. He 
went to bed again very early, and was soon locked 
in the embrace of " nature's sweet restorer, balmy 
sleep." 



XYII. 

GETTING WOEK. 

AFTER a good night's sleep, Benjamin arose 
and dressed liimself as neatly as he could 
w ith his old clothes, and repaired to Andrew Brad- 
ford's printing-office. 

" All ! then you have arrived," said an old gen- 
tleman, rising to salute him as he entered. " I 
reached here first." 

" 0, it is Mr. Bradford ! " exclaimed Benjamin, 
surprised at meeting the old printer whom he saw 
in New York, and who directed him to his son, 
Andrew Bradford, of Philadelphia. " I did not 
expect to meet you here." 

" I suppose not. I started off unexpectedly, and 
came all the way on horseback. But I am glad 
that you have reached here safely. This is a 
young man from Boston," (addressing his son and 
introducing Benjamin,) " after work in a printing- 
office, and I directed him to you. Franklin is your 
name, I believe." 

" Yes, sir ! Benjamin Franklin." 

Mr. Bradford received him very cordially, and 



166 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

being about to eat breakfast, lie said : " Come, it is 
my breakfast hour, and you shall be welcome to 
the table. We can talk this matter over at the 
table ;" — and Benjamin accepted the invitation. 

"I told this young man," said the old printer 
from New York, " that one of your men died a 
ihort time since, and you would want a printer to 
ake his place." 

" That is true," replied Mr. Andrew Bradford. 
• I did want another hand to take his place, but I 
toed one only a few days since. I am sorry to dis- 
appoint tills youth who has come so far for work." 

" Is there another printing-office here ? " asked 
Benjamin. 

" Yes ; a man by the name of Keimer has just 
commenced the business, and I think he would be 
glad to employ you." 

" I must get work somewhere," added Benjamin, 
" for I have spent nearly all my money in gettuig 
here." 

" If he will not employ you," added Mr. Brad- 
ford, kindly, " you may lodge at my house, and I 
will give you a little work from time to time until 
business is better." 

" That will be a great favor to me," answered 
Benjamin, " for which I shall be very thankful ; " 
and he really fell; more grateful to Mr. Bradford for 
the offer than his words indicated. 

" I will go with you. to see Mr. Keimer," said old 



GETTING WOKK. 167 

Mr. Bradford from New York. " Perhaps I can be 
of some service to you in securing a place.'' 

Benjamin began to think he had fallen into very 
obliging hands; so he followed their advice, and 
went with his aged friend to see the newly estab- 
lished printer. On arriving at the office, they met 
Mr. Keimer, and M Mr. Bradford introduced theii 
busniess by saying: "Neighbor, I have brought to 
see you a young man of your business ; perhaps you 
may want such a one." 

" That depends on his qualifications,'' answered 
Mr. Keimer. "How long have you worked at the 
busniess ? " he inquired, turning to Benjamin. 
" Several years, sir." 

"Bo you understand all parts of it so that you 
♦ can go on with it?" 

" I think I do ; you can try me and satisfy your- 
self." 

"Take this composing-stick, and let me see 
whether you are competent or not," said Keimer. 

Benjamin proceeded to exhibit his skill at the 
work, and very soon satisfied Keimer that he had 
told the truth. 

" Very well done," said Keimer. " I will employ 
you as soon as I have sufficient work to warrant 
such a step. At present I have nothing for you 
to do." ^ 

Here Benjamin saw the advantage of having 
attended to his business closely, so as to learn ihor 



168 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

oughly the work he was to do. Some boys perform 
their work in just a passable way, not caring partic- 
ularly whether it is well done, if they can only 
" pass muster." But not so with Benjamin. He 
sought to understand the business to which he 
attended, and to do as well as possible the work .he 
undertook. The consequence was that he was a 
thorough workman, and in five minutes he was 
able to satisfy Keimer of the fact. This was greatly 
in his favor ; and such a young man is never long 
out of business. 

Turning to Bradford, Keimer said, supposing him 
to be a Philadelphian who wished him well in his 
new enterprise: "What do you think of my pros- 
pects here, sir? Do you think I shall succeed in 
my business ? " 

" That will depend upon your own exertions and 
business talents," was Bradford's reply. 

" I shall do all in my power to draw the business 
of the town," added Keimer ; " and I think I can 
do it." 

" But how can you expect to get all the business 
when there is another printer here, who has been 
established some time ? " 

Keimer answered this last inquiry by disclosiQg 
his plans, as Bradford artfully drew him out on 
every point, until he learned how he was calculat- 
ing to command all the business, and run his son 
out. Nor did Keimer dream that he was convers- 



GETTING WORK. 169 

iiig with the father of the other printer whom he 
designed to deprive of his livehhood. All the while 
Benjamin stood and listened to their conversation, 
perceiving that Mr. Bradford was shrewdly learning 
Keimer's plans for his son's benefit. 

," Did you not know that man ? " inquired Benja- 
min, after Bradford left, leaving him in the office. 

" No ; but I concluded that he was one of the 
town's people who wished me well in my business, 
and therefore came in to introduce you." 

"It is not so," replied Benjamin. "That was 
the father of Andrew Bradford, your neighbor, the 
printer. He carries on printing in New York." 

" It can't be ! " exclaimed Keimer, astonished at 
this bit of news, and startled at the thought of hav- 
ing made known his plans to a competitor. 

" It can be," replied Benjamin. "He is certainly 
Bradford, the New York printer, and father of An- 
drew Bradford, the printer of this town." 

"How happened it that he should come here with 
you ? " 

" I can tell you in few words," said Benjamin ; 
and he went on and told him of his going to New 
York, and how he happened to come to Philadel- 
phia and meet Mr. Bradford there, and finally how 
he found his way to Keimer's office. 

" It will learn me a good lesson," said Keimer. 
" When I divulge secrets to another man whom I 
don't know, I shall not be in my right mind." 

8 



170 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

Benjamin spent a short time in looking over 
K timer's office, and found that his press was old 
and damaged, and his fount of English types nearly 
worn out. Possessing much more ingenuity than 
Keimer, and understanding a printing-press much 
better, he went to work, and in a short time put i\ 
into decent order for service. Keimer was compos- 
ing an Elegy on Aquila Rose, an excellent young 
man who worked for Bradford, and who had recent- 
ly died ; and he agreed to send for Benjamin to 
print it off when it was ready. With this arrange- 
ment, Benjamin returned to Mr. Bradford to eat 
and lodge. A few days after he received a message 
from Keimer, that the Elegy was ready to be print- 
ed. From that time Keimer provided him with 
work. 

"You must have another boarding-place," said 
Keimer to him one day. Benjamin was still board- 
ing at Bradford's, and this was not agreeable to 
Keimer. 

" Just as you please," answered Benjamin : '' 1 
am satisfied to board there or go elsewhere." 

" I can get you boarded with an acquaintance of 
mine, I think, where you will find it very pleasant. 
I am confident that you will like better there than 
at Mr. Bradford's. 

" I will go there, if you think it is best," added 
Benjamin. " My chest has arrived, and I can look 
a little more respectable now than I could before." 



GETTING WORK. ITl 

The result was, that he went to board at Mr. 
Read's, the father of the young lady who stood in 
the door when he passed on the aforesaid Sunday 
morning with a roll of bread under each arm. His 
appearance was much improved by this time, so that 
evQn Miss Read saw that he was an intelligent, 
promising young man. 

We learn one or two things about Benjamin from 
the foregoing, which the reader may ponder with 
benefit to himself. In the first place, he must have 
been very observing. He understood the construc- 
tion of a printing-press so well, that he could put an 
old one into running order, youth as he was, when 
its proprietor was una^e to do it. This is more re- 
markable, because he was not obliged to study the 
mechanism of a printing-press in order to work it. 
Doubtless many a person operates this and other 
machines, without giving any particular attention to 
their structure. But a class of minds are never 
satisfied until they understand whatever commands 
their attention. They are inquisitive to learn the 
philosophy of things. It was so with Benjamin, 
and this characteristic proved a valuable element of 
his success. It was the secret of his inventions and 
discoveries thereafter. It was so with Stephenson, 
of whom we have spoken before. As soon as he 
was appointed plugman of an engine, at seventeen 
years of age, he began to study its construction. 
In his leisure hours, he took it to pieces and put it 



172 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

together again several times, in order to understand 
it. So of William Hutton, whose name is mentioned 
in another place. Encouraged bj a couplet which 
he read in Djce's Spelling-book, — 

" Despair of nothing that you would attain, 
Unwearied diligence your end will gain," 

he sought to master everything that he undertook. 
One day he^ borrowed a dulcimer, and made one by 
it. With no other tools than the hammer-kej and 
pliers of the stocking frame for hammer and pincers, 
his pocket-knife, and a one-pronged fork that served 
as spring, awl, and gimlet, he made a capital dul- 
cimer, which he sold for sixteen shillings. Here 
were both observation and perseverance, though not 
more finely developed than they were in the charac- 
ter of young Benjamin Franklin. 

Another important truth is learned from the fore- 
going, namely, that Benjamin was not proud. A 
sight of liim passing up Market Street, with three 
large rolls of bread, is proof of this ; or his appear- 
ance in the street and Quaker church in his every- 
day garb, because his best suit was " coming round 
by sea," is equally significant. How many boys of 
his age would have stayed away from meeting until 
the " best clothes " arrived ! How many would seek 
for 'Some concealment of their poverty, if possible, 
in similar circumstances ! But these were small 
matters to Benjamin, in comparison with finding 



GETTING WORK. 173 

employment and earning a livelihood. He had a des- 
tiny to work out, and in working tliat he must do 
as he could, and not always as he would. He cared 
not for the laughs and jeers of those who could 
dress better and live more sumptuously than liim- 
self, since it was absolutely necessary for him to 
dress as he did, in order " to make his ends meet." 
He might have followed the example of sgh?'^ ^oung 
men, and ran into debt, in order to " cut a dash ; " 
but he believed then, as he wrote afterwards, that 
" lying rides on debt's back," and that it is " better 
to go to bed supperless than rise m debt ; " or, as he 
expressed himself in other maxims, " Those have a 
short Lent who owe money to be paid at Easter," 
and, "It is easier to build two chimneys than to 
keep one in fuel." 



XVIII. 

NEWS FEOM HOME, AND EETURN. 

HITHERTO BENJAMIN had lived contentedly 
in Philadelphia, strivmg to forget Boston and 
old familiar scenes as much as possible. No one at 
home knew of his whereabouts, except his old friend 
ColHns, who kept the secret well. One day, how- 
ever, a letter came to his address, and the super- 
scription looked so familiar that Benjamin's hand 
fairly trembled as he broke the seal. It proved to 
be from his brother-in-law, Robert Homes, " master 
of a sloop that traded between Boston and Dela- 
ware." He came to Newcastle, it seems, about 
forty miles from Philadelphia, and, hearing of Ben- 
jamin's place of residence, he sat down and wrote 
him a letter, telling liim of the deep sorrow mto 
which his departure had plunged his parents, who 
still were wholly ignorant of his fate, and exhort- 
ing him to return home to his friends, who would 
welcome him kindly. The letter was a strong ap- 
peal to his feelings. 

Benjamin sat down and replied to the letter, 
stating his reasons in full for leaving Boston, giv- 



NEWS FROM HOME, AND RETURN. 175 

ing an account of his present circumstances and 
prospects, and closing by expressing kind feelings 
for all the loved ones at home, but declining to 
return. 

Not many days after Benjamin wrote and sent his 
letter, an unusual scene transpired at the office. 
He was at work near the window, when, on looking 
out, he saw Governor Keith approaching. 

" The Governor is coming in," said he to Keimer. 

Keimer looked out of the window, and saw that 
it was so, whereupon he hurried down to the door, 
not a little excited by the thought of waiting upon 
the Governor, supposing, of course, that he was 
coming in to see him. 

" Does Benjamin Franklin work for you ? " in- 
quired the Governor. 

"He does," answered Keimer, both astonished 
and perplexed by the inquiry. What he could 
want of him he could not imagine. 

"Can I see him?" asked the Governor. 

" Certainly ; walk in." The Governor, and Colo- 
nel French, who was with him, were ushered into 
the presence of Benjamin. 

" I am happy to make the acquaintance of a young 
man of your abilities," he said to him. " I regret 
that you did not report yourself to me long ago." 

Benjamin was too much astonished at the unex- 
pected interview to be able to reply ; and the Gov- 
ernor went on to say, that " he called to invite him 



176 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

to an interview at the tavern." Benjamin was more 
perplexed than ever, and Keimer stared with amaze- 
ment. But after some hesitation, arising from sud- 
den surprise, Benjamin consented to go with the 
Governor, and was soon seated with him and Colo- 
nel French in a room of the tavern at the corner 
of Third Street. 

" I called to see you," satd the Governor, " re- 
specting the printing business in this town. 1 
understand that you are well acquainted with it, 
in all its branches, and, from my knowledge of your 
abilities, I think you would succeed admirably in 
setting up the business for yourself. Our printers 
here are ignorant and inefficient, and we must have 
more competent men to do the government work." 

How the Governor knew so much about his qual- 
ifications for the business, Benjamin could not 
divine. He replied, however : " I have nothing to 
commence business with, and it will require some 
capital. My father might assist me if he were dis- 
posed ; but I have no reason to think that he 
would." 

" I will write to him upon the subject," said the 
Governor, ^' and perhaps he may be persuaded. I 
can show him the advantages of such an enterprise 
to yourself and the public, so that he cannot doubt 
the practicability of the tiling." 

" There are two printers here already," contin- 
ued Benjamin ; " and a third one would hardly be 
supported." 



NEWS FROM HOME, AND RETURN. 177 

"A third one, who understands the business as 
you do," responded the Governor, "would com- 
mand the chief business of the town in a short 
time. I will pledge you all the public printing of 
the government." 

" And I will pledge the same for the government 
of Delaware," said Colonel French, of Newcastle. 

" There can be no doubt on this point," contin- 
ued Governor Keith. "You had better decide to 
return to Boston by the first vessel, and take a let- 
ter from me to your father." 

" I will so decide at once, if such is your judg- 
ment in the matter," replied Benjamin. 
» " Then it is understood," added his Excellency, 
" that you will repair to Boston in the first vessel 
that sails. In the mean time, you must continue to 
work for Mr. Keimer, keeping the object of this in- 
terview a profound secret." 

Having made this arrangement, they separated, 
and Benjamin returned to the printing-office, 
scarcely knowing how he should evade the antici- 
pated inquisitiveness of Keimer respecting the in- 
terview; but he succeeded in keeping the secret. 
His mind, however, labored much upon the ques- 
tion, how Governor Keith should know anything 
about him, a poor, obscure printer-boy. It was not 
until he returned to Boston that this mystery was 
solved. Then he learned that Keith was present 
at Newcastle when his brother-in-law received his 
8* L 



178 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

(Benjamin's) letter, and Captain Homes read ii 
aloud to him. 

" How old is he ? " asked the Governor. 

" Seventeen," replied Captain Homes. 

" Only seventeen ! I am surprised that a youth 
of that age should write so well. He must be an 
uncommon boy." 

Captain Homes assured him that he was a very 
competent youth, and possessed abilities that quali- 
fied him for almost any place. Here was the secret 
of Keith's interest in the printer-boy, but of which 
the latter knew nothing until he met his brother-in- 
law in Boston. 

Before an opportunity offered for Benjamin to go 
to Boston, Governor Keith frequently sent for him 
to dine with him, on which occasions he conversed 
with him in a very friendly and familiar way. It 
was quite unusual for a boy of seventeen years to 
become the frequent guest of a Governor, and no 
wonder he was almost bewildered by the unexpected 
attention. Some would have become vain and 
proud in consequence of such attentions ; but Ben- 
jamin bore the honors meekly. 

About the last of April, 1724, a small vessel of- 
fered for Boston. Benjamin made arrangements 
to go, took leave of Keimer as if going to visit 
his friends, and, with Keith's letter to his father, 
sailed. The vessel had a boisterous time at sea, but 
after a fortnight's voyage she entered Boston har- 



NEWS FROM HOME, AND RETURN. 179 

bor. Benjamin had been absent seven months, and 
his parents had not heard a word from him. His 
brother-in-law had not returned from Newcastle, nor 
written to them about his knowledge of Benjamin. 
The reader may well imagine, then, that he took 
them all by surprise. His poor mother had laid his 
absence to heart so much, that it had worn upon her, 
and his return was to her almost like life from the 
dead. She was overjoyed, and no language could 
express her delight as she looked into the face of her 
long-lost Benjamin. His father was not less rejoiced, 
although he had a different way of showing it. Li- 
deed, all the family, except his brother James, gave 
him a most cordial and affectionate welcome. He 
did not return ragged and penniless, as runaways 
generally do, but he was clad in a new and hand- 
some suit, carried a watch in his pocket, and had 
about five pounds sterling in silver in his purse. 
He never looked half so genteel and neat in his life, 
and certainly never commanded so much money at 
one time before. 

Before his brother James heard of his arrival, 
Benjamin hastened to the printing-office, and star- 
tled him by suddenly standing before him. James 
stopped his work, saluted him in rather a reserved 
manner, and, after surveying him from head to foot, 
turned to his work again. It was rather a cold 
reception on the whole, but not altogether unex- 
pected to Benjamin. A brother who had driven 



ISO THE rRINTEK-ROT. 

him away by his harsh treatment could hardly be 
expected to ^volcome him back with a very wai-m 
heart. 

The journeymen were delighted to see him, and 
they were very inquisitive. 

" Where have you been, Ben ? " asked one. 

" To Philadelpliia," he answered. 

" Wliat Idnd of a place is it ? " 

" It is one of the finest places I ever saw, I like 
it better than Boston." 

" Going back ? " inquired a second person. 

" Yes ; and very soon, too," he replied. *' That 
is the place for the printing business." 

" What kind of money do you have there ? " in- 
quired another. There was no established ciuTcncy 
in tlie country at that time, and his interrogator 
wanted to know what they used m Philadelphia. 

Instead of replying directly, Benjamin drew the 
silver from his pocket, and spread it out before them. 
It was quite a curiosity to them, as they used only 
paper money in Boston ; and, besides, it caused 
them to think that their old associate had fallen 
upon lucky days. 

" You made a lucky hit, Ben, this time," said 
one. 

" Heavy stuff to carry about," suggested a second. 
" A man would want a wheelbarrow if he had much 
of it." 

'* Perhaps you would accept of the wheelbarrow 



NEWS ^ROM HOME, AND RETURN. 181 

and silver together, rather than to have neither," 
responded Benjamin. 

By tliis time Benjamin's watch was discovered, 
and there was a general desire to see it ; so he laid it 
down before them, while his brother appeared " grum 
and sidlen." 

" That is a convenient companion," said Benja- 
min, as he laid it down. 

" And you can afford to have such things," added 
one of the number, " because you save your money, 
and don't spend it for pleasure, drink, and luxu- 
ries." 

" Ben has fared so well," said one, " that it be- 
longs to him to treat the company." As we have 
said before, the use of intoxicating drinks was gen- 
eral at that time, and when old friends met, it was 
common to signalize the occasion by the use of such 
beverage. Had Benjamin lived at this day, with liis 
temperate habits, he would have refused to pander 
to their appetite for strong drink, and suggested 
some other kind of treat. But, living as he did 
when there were no temperance societies, and no 
alarm at the growing evils of intoxication, he ac- 
cepted the proposal in his accustomed generous 
way. 

" There is a dollar," said he, throwing out a 
dollar in silver, " take that, and drink what you 
please for old acquaintance' sake." Then, pocket- 
ing his watch and money, he took his leave. 



182 THE PEINTER-BOY. 

His brother was greatly incensed at this visit, and 
regarded it in the light of an insult. His mother 
endeavored to bring him to terms of reconciliation 
with Benjamin, but in vain. 

" You are brothers," said she, " and you ought to 
behave towards each other as brothers. It is very 
painful to me to think of your hostility to Benjamin, 
and I do hope that you will forget the past, and be 
true to each other in future." 

" Never," replied James. " He insulted me so 
directly before my workmen the other day, that I 
shall not forget nor forgive it." 

James was mistaken in his view of Benjamin's in- 
tention. The latter did not mean to insult him at 
the office. He would have been glad of a cordial 
welcome from James, and his feelings were such that 
he would have rejoicingly blotted out the recollec- 
tion of his former ill-treatment, had James met him 
as a brother. 

Benjamin took the first opportunity to make 
known to his father the object and circumstances 
of his visit home, and to hand him the Governor's 
letter, which he' received with manifest surprise, 
though he evidently doubted whether it was gen- 
uine. For several days he made no conversation 
about the matter, as he did not exactly know what 
to make of it. Just then Captain Homes returned, 
and Mr. Franklin showed him the letter of Gov- 
ernor Keith, and inquired if he knew the man. 



NEWS FROM HOME, AND RETURN. 183 

" I liave met him," replied Captain Homes, " and 
was pleased with his appearance. I tliink it would 
be well for Benjamin to follow his advice." 

" He cannot be a man of much discretion," con- 
tinued Mr. Franklin, " to think of setting up a boy 
in business who lacks three years of arriving at his 
majority. The project does not strike me favorably 
at aU." 

" He was much taken with Benjamin's abilities," 
added Captain Homes, " by a letter which I received 
from him at Newcastle, and which I read to him, as 
he was present when I received it." 

"His letters may be well enough, for aught 1 
know ; but a youth of his age, though his abilities be 
good, has not sufficient judgment to conduct busi- 
ness for himself. I shall not give my consent to 
such a wild scheme." 

Mr. Franklin replied to Governor Keith's letter, 
and thanked him kindly for the patronage he of- 
fered his son, but declining to set up a youth in a 
business of so much importance. 

" I am rejoiced," said he to Benjamin, just before 
the latter started to go back, " that you have con- 
ducted yourself so well as to secure the esteem of Sir 
William Keith. Your appearance, too, shows that 
you have been industrious and economical, all of 
which pleases me very much. I should advise you 
to go back, and thmk no more of going into business 
tor yourself until you are of age. By industry, econ- 



184 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

oiiiy, aiid perseYcrance you will be able to .command 
the means of establishing business then. As yet you 
are too young. I should be glad to have you remain 
here with your brother, if he could be reconciled to 
you ; but as it is, you shall have my approbation and 
blesshig in returning to Philadelphia." 

It was during this visit to Boston that he called 
upon the celebrated Dr. Increase Mather, to whose 
preacliing he had been accustomed to listen. Tlio 
Doctor received him kindly, and introduced him into 
his library, where they chatted in a familiar way for 
some time. When Benjamm rose to go out, " Come 
this way," said the Doctor, " I will show you a 
nearer passage out," — pointing him to a narrow 
passage, with a beam crossing it overhead. They 
were stiU talking, the Doctor following behind, and 
Benjamin partly turned aroimd toward him. 

" Stoop I stoop ! " shouted the Doctor. 

Benjamin did not understand what he meant, un- 
til his head struck against the beam with considera- 
ble force. 

" There," said the Doctor, laughing, " you are 
young, and have the world before you ; stoop as 
you go through it, and you may miss many hard 
thumps." 

Nearly seventy years after, the recipient of this 
counsel wrote : — 

" This advice, thus beaten into my head, has fre- 
quently been of use to me ; and I often thuik of it, 



NEWS FROM HOME, AND RETURN. 185 

when I see pride mortified, and misfortunes brought 
upon people by their carrying their heads too liigh." 
Benjamin's old companion, Collins, was delighted 
with his account of Philadelphia, and resolved to 
accompany him thither on his return. He was a 
clerk in the post-office ; but ho gave up his situation 
for the more alluring prospects of a residence in 
Pennsylvania. He started two or three days before 
Benjamin, as he wanted to stop and make a visit in 
Rhode Island, having previously gathered up his 
books, " which were a pretty collection in mathe- 
matics and philosophy," and packed them to go, vtdth 
Benjamin's baggage, around by sea to New York, 
where they would meet. 



XIX. 

BACK AGAIN. 

ON HIS return, Benjamin sailed in a sloop to 
New York, where he had arranged to meet 
Collins. They put in at Newport on business, 
where he had a good opportunity to visit his brother 
Jolm, who had been married and settled there some 
years. He received a very hearty and affectionate 
welcome from his brother, who was always kind and 
true to him. His stay was short, as he must go 
when the sloop did, but he made the most of it, and 
crowded a great deal of enjoyment into a short 
space of time. Just before he left Newport, a 
friend of his brother, a Mr. Yernon, requested him 
to collect a debt for him in Pennsylvania, of about 
thirty-five pounds currency, and use the money as 
he pleased until he should call for it. Accordingly, 
he gave Benjamin an order to receive it. 

At Newport they took in a number of passengers, 
among whom was a Quaker lady and her servants, 
and two young women. Benjamin was very polite 
to assist the Quaker lady about her baggage, for 
wliich she was very thankful. He soon became 



. - BACK AGAIN. 187 

acquainted with the two young women, and they 
laughed and chatted together. They were hand- 
somely attired, appeared intelligent, and were ex- 
tremely sociable. The motherly Quaker lady saw 
that there was a growing familiarity between them, 
and she called Benjamin aside, feeUng for him 
somewhat as she would for a son, and said : " Young 
man, I am concerned for thee, as thou hast no 
friend with thee, and seems not to know much of 
the world, or of the snares youth is exposed to; 
depend upon it, these are very bad women ; I can 
see it by all their actions ; and if thou art not upon 
thy guard, they will draw thee into some danger ; 
they are strangers to thee, and I advise thee, in a 
friendly concern for thy welfare, to have no ac- 
quaintance with them." 

"Indeed^" said Benjamin, with much surprise, 
" I see nothing out of the way in them. They are 
intelligent and social ; and I am rather surprised at 
your suspicions." 

" But I have heard them say enough to convince 
rae that my suspicions are well founded," replied 
the old lady ; and she repeated to him some of their 
conversation which she had overheard. 

"You are right, then," quickly answered Ben- 
jamin, after listening to her. " I am much obliged 
to you for your advice, and I will heed it ? " 

Just before they arrived at New York the young 
women invited him to call at their residence, nam- 



188 THE PEINTEE-BOY. 

ing the street and number, but he did not accept 
their invitation. The next day the captain missed 
a silver spoon and other things from the cabin, 
and, suspecting the two girls, had their residence 
searched, where the missing articles were found, in 
consequence of which the artful thieves were pun- 
ished. Benjamin always felt thankful to the old 
lady for her timely warning, and considered that 
following her advice probably saved him from 
trouble and ruin. 

Collins had been in New York several days when 
Benjamin arrived. The latter was astounded to 
find him intoxicated when they met. 

" Can it be," he exclaimed to Collins, " that you 
are intemperate ? " 

" I intemperate ! " retorted Collins, disposed to 
resent the accusation. " Do you call me drunk ? " 

" No, you are not exactly drunk ; but then you 
are disguised with liquor, and I am utterly aston- 
ished. Once you was as temperate and industrious 
as any young man in Boston, and far more respected 
than most of them. How did it happen that you 
formed this evil habit ? " 

Collins saw that he could not deceive Benjamin ; 
so he made a clean breast of the matter, and con- 
fessed to have formed intemperate habits soon after 
Benjamin first left Boston. He said that his appe- 
tite for brandy was strong, and that he had been in- 
toxicated every day since his arri\al in New York. 



BACK AGAIN. 189 

" I have lost all iny money," he said, " and have 
nothing to pay my bills." 

" Lost your money ! " exclaimed Benjamin. " How 
did you lose that ? " 

"I lost it gaming," he replied. 

" What ! a gambler, too ? " 

" Yes, if you will have it so," answered Collins, 
somewhat coolly ; " and you must loan me money 
to pay my bills." 

" If I had known this," continued Benjamin, " I 
would not have persuaded you to leave Boston. 
And here let me tell you, that it is impossible for 
you to find a situation unless you reform." 

" Perhaps so," answered Collins ; " but that is not 
the question now that interests me. I want to know 
whether you will loan me money to pay my bills 
here and go on my journey ? " 

" I must, for aught I see," replied Benjamin. 
" I should not leave you here without money and 
friends, of course, for that would be cruel. But 
you must try to reform." 

Collins was a very bright, efiicient young man, 
as we have seen, possessing marked mathematical 
talents, and he might have become one of the first 
scholars of his day, had he enjoyed the advantages 
of a course of study. Some of the clergymen of 
Boston showed him much attention on account of 
his abilities and love of books. But strong drink 
blasted his hopes. 



190 THE PRINTEK-BOY. 

In New York, Benjamin received a message from 
Governor Burnet, inviting liim to call at his house. 
This was quite as unexpected as the visit of Gov- 
ernor Keith, and he began to think that governors 
had a passionate regard for him. He found, how- 
ever, that the Governor had learned from the captain 
of the sloop, that he had a young man on board 
who brought with him a large number of books 
from Boston. This interested the Governor, and was 
the occasion of his sending the aforesaid invitation 
to Benjamin. 

He accepted the invitation, and would have taken 
Collins with him if the latter had been sober. Gov- 
ernor Burnet received him with much cordiality, 
showed him his large library, and conversed freely 
about books and authors for some time. It was 
an agreeable interview to Benjamin, the more so 
because it was the second time that a Governor 
had sought him out, 'and showed him attention. 

They proceeded to Philadelphia. On the way 
Benjamin collected Yernon's debt, which proved 
quite fortunate, since otherwise his money would not 
have carried him through, because he had the bills 
of two to pay. A good trip brought them safely to 
their place of destination, and Collins boarded with 
Benjamin, at the latter's expense, waiting for an- 
opening in some counting-room. 

The reader may be curious to learn the fate of 
Collins, and we will briefly record it here. He tried 



BACK AGAIN. 191 

in vain to secure a situation, but his dram-drinking 
habits prevented. Every few days he went to Ben- 
jamin for money, knowing that he had that of Yer- 
non, always promismg to pay as soon as he found 
business. Benjamin, in the kindness of his heart, 
loaned him little by little, until he ^as troubled to 
know what he should do if Vernon should call for 
tlie money. Sometimes he lectured Collins severely 
for his habits, until their friendship was essentially 
modified. One day they were in a boat with other 
yoimg men, on the Delaware, when Collms refused 
to row. 

" We shall not row you," said Benjamin. 

" You will row me, or stay all night on the water, 
just as you please," retorted Collins. 

" We can stay as long as you can," continued 
Benjamin. " I shall not row you." 

" Come, Ben, let us row," said one of the young 
men. " K he don't want to row, let him sit still." 

" Row him, if you want to," replied Benjamin, 
" I shall not." 

"Yes, you will," shouted Collins, starting from 
his seat. " I will be rowed home, and you shall help 
do it, or I will throw you overboard ; " and he hur- 
ried on to execute his threat. But, as he came up 
and struck at him, Benjamin clapped his head under 
his thighs, and, rising, threw him head over heels 
into the river. He knew that Collins was a good 
swimmer, so that he had no fears about his drown- 
ing. 



192 THE FEINTER-BOY. 

"Will you row now?" he inquired, as Collins 
swam towards the boat. 

" Not a stroke," he answered, angrily ; whereupon 
they sent the boat forward out of his reach, with one 
or two strokes of the oar. Again and again they al- 
lowed him to approach the boat, when they repeated 
the question : " Will you promise to row ? " and as 
often received an emphatic " No " for a reply. At 
length, perceiving that he was quite exhausted, they 
drew him in without extorting from him a promise 
to row. 

This scene closed the intimate relations of Ben- 
jamin to Collins. They scarcely spoke together civ- 
illy afterward. Collins sailed for Barbadoes, with- 
in a few weeks after, and he was never heard from 
again. He probably died there, a miserable sot, and 
Benjamin lost all the money he loaned him. In 
later life, Benjamin Franklin referred to this event, 
and spoke of himself as having received retribution 
for his influence over Collins. For, when they were 
so intimate in Boston, Benjamin corrupted his re- 
ligious opinions by advocating doubts about the 
reality of religion, until Collins became a thorough 
sceptic. Until that time, he was industrious, tem- 
perate, and honest. But having lost his respect for 
religion, he was left without restraint, and went rap- 
idly to ruin. Benjamin was the greatest sufferer by 
his fall, and thus was rebuked for influencing him 
to treat religion with contempt. 



BACK AGAIN. 19? 

Benjamin immediately sought an interview with 
Governor Keith, and told him the result of his visit 
home, and gave his father's reasons for declming to 
assist him. 

" But since he will not set you up," said the Gov- 
ernor, " I will do it myself. Give me an inventory 
of the things necessary to be had from England, and 
I will send for them. You shall repay me when you' 
are able ; I am resolved to have a good printer here, 
and I am sure you must succeed." 

This was said with such apparent cordiality that 
Benjamin did not doubt that he meant just what 
he affirmed, so he yielded to his suggestion to make 
out an inventory of necessary articles. In the mean 
time he went to work for Keimer. 



XX. 

A LITEEAEY GAME. 

AT THIS point it is necessary to speak of Ben- 
jamin's associates. He was not long in find 
ing new acquaintances in Philadelphia. His indup- 
try and general good hahits won the respect and 
confidence of all who came in contact with him. 
Among those who particularly pleased him were 
three young men, Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, 
and James Ralph, all lovers of reading. Their liter- 
ary tendencies no doubt attracted Benjamin, and 
caused him to value their companionship more 
highly. The first two were clerks of Charles Brock- 
den, an eminent conveyancer of the town, and the 
other was a merchant's clerk. Watson was a pious 
young man of sterling integrity, while the others 
were more lax in their religious opinions and princi- 
ples. All were sensible young men, much above 
the average of this class in intellectual endowments. 
Osborne and Ralph were imaginative and poetical, 
and frequently tried their talents at verse-making. 
Much of their leisure time was spent together, 
reading to each other, and discussing what they 



A LITERARY GAME. 195 

read. Even their Sundays were often wickedly de- 
voted to such intellectual pastime on the banks of 
the Schuylkill, whither they strolled, instead of vis- 
iting the house of God, except Watson, who had too 
much religious principle thus to desecrate the Sa)> 
bath. 

" You overrate your talent for poetry," said Os- 
borne to Ralph, at one of their interviews. " You 
will never make a poet, if you live to be as old as 
Methuselah." 

" Much obliged for your compliment," answered 
Ralph ; " but it does not alter my own opinion. All 
poets have their faults when they begin. It is prac- 
tice that makes perfect." 

" It will take something more than practice to 
make a poet of you," continued Osborne. " That 
piece which you just read has no poetry about it. 
Besides, if you should become a poet, it will not 
bring you a fortune, as you seem to think." 

" Perhaps not ; but I am confident that a poet 
may easily win both popularity and a livelihood. 
At any rate, I am determined to try it, in spite of 
your decidedly poor opinion of my abilities." 

"Well, I advise you to stick to the business to 
which you were bred," added Osborne, "if you 
would keep out of the poor-house. A good clerk is 
better than a bad poet;" — and he cast a particu- 
larly roguish glance at Ralph as he said it. 

" You need not set yourself up for a critic," said 



196 THE rRINTER-BOY. 

Benjamin to Osborne, after hearing these remarks. 
" I think more of Ealph as a poet than I do of you 
as a critic. Yon are not willing to grant that his 
productions have any merit at all ; but I think they 
have. Moreover, it is a good practice for him to 
write poetry, to improve himself in the use of lan- 
guage." 

" Fiddlestick ! " retorted Osborne ; " it is wasting- 
his time, that might be profitably employed in read- 
ing." 

" Not half so much as your empty criticisms are 
wasting your breath," said Benjamin, with a smile. 
" But, look here, I will tell you what we better do. 
At our next meeting each one of us shall bring a 
piece of poetry, of our own making, and we will 
compare notes, and criticise each other." . 

"I will agree to that," replied Ealph. 

" And so will I," added Osborne, " provided you 
will decide upon the subject now, so that all shall 
have fair play." 

•^ " We will do that, of course," answered Benjamin. 
" Have you a subject to suggest ? " 

"None, unless it is a paraphrase of the eigh- 
teenth Psalm, which describes the descent of the 
Deity." 

" A capital subject," said Benjamin ; " what do 
you say to taking that, Ralph ? " 

"I am satisfied with it," replied Ralph; "and 
more, too, — I rather like it." 



A LITEKAEY GAME. 197 

Thus it was agreed that each one should write 
a poetical paraphrase of the eighteenth Psalm for 
their next meeting, and with this understanding 
they separated. 

Just before the time of their next meeting, Ealph 
called upon Benjamin with his piece, and asked him 
to examine it. 

. " I have been so busy," said Benjamin, " that I 
have not been able to write anything, and I shall be 
obliged to appear unprepared. But I should like 
to read yours ; " and he proceeded to examine it. 

" Tliat is excellent," said he, after reading it. 
"You have not written anything 'that is equal to 
this." 

" But," said Ralph, ^' Osborne never will allow 
the least merit in anything of mine, but makes a 
thousand criticisms, out of mere envy. He will do 
so with that piece, I have no doubt." 

" If he does, it will prove that he is prejudiced 
against you, or is no judge of poetry," replied Ben- 
jamin. 

" I have a plan to test him," continued Ralph. 

" He is not so jealous of you ; I wish, therefore, you 

would take this piece and produce it as yours. I 

, will make some excuse and have nothing. We 

shall then hear what he will say to it." 

" I will do it," answered Benjamin, who was 
well convinced that Osborne was prejudiced against 
Ralph ; " but I must transcribe it, so that it will 
appear in my own handwriting." 



198 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" Certainly ; and be careful that you don't let the 
secret out." 

They met at the appointed time. Watson was 
the first to read his performance. Osborne came 
next, and his piece was much better than Watson's. 
Ealph noticed two or three blemishes, but pointed 
out many beauties in it. ^ 

" I have nothing to read," said Ralph, whose turn 
came next in order. " I will try to do my part next 
time." 

" Poets ought to be ready at any time," remarked 
Osborne jestingly. " Well, then, Ben, let us have 
yours." 

" I rather think I must be excused," answered 
Benjamin, feigning an unwillingness to read. 

" No excuse for you," said Osborne. " You have 
it written, for I saw it in your hand." 

" That is true," replied Benjamin ; " but after 
such fine productions as we have heard, there is 
little encouragement for me to read mine. I think 
I must correct it and dress it up a little before I 
read it." 

" Not a word of it," said Ralph. " There is no 
excuse for any one who is prepared." 

So, after much urging, Benjamin proceeded to 
read his,- with seeming diffidence, to which all lis- 
tened with rapt attention. 

" You must read that again," said Osborne, when 
the first reading was finished ; which Benjamin a£>n- 
sented to do. 



A LITER AKY GAME. 199 

" You surprise me, Ben," said Osborne, after the 
piece was read the second time. " You are a gen- 
uine poet. I had no idea that you could write like 
that." 

" Nor I," added Watson. " It is better than half 
the poetry that is printed. •If we had not given out 
the subject, I should have charged you with steal- 
ing it." 

" What do you say, Ralph ? " inquired Osborne. 
" You are a poet, and ought to be a judge of such 
matters." 

" I don't think it is entirely faultless," responded 
Ealph. " You have commended it fuU as highly as 
it will bear, in my estimation." 

" Well done ! " exclaimed Osborne. " Your opin- 
ion of that piece proves that you are destitute of 
poetical taste, as I have told you before." 

Ralph and Benjamin saw that Osborne was fairly 
caught, and they hardly dared to exchange glances, 
lest they should betray tliemselves. They succeeded, 
however, in controlling their risibles, and allowed 
Osborne to express himself most emphatically. 

Ralph walked home with Osborne, and their con- 
versation was upon Benjamin's poetry. , . 

" Who would have imagined," said Osborne, 
"that Franklin was capable of such a perform 
ance, — such painting, such force, such fire! He 
has even improved on the original. In common 
conversation he seems to have no choice of 



200 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

words ; he hesitates and blunders ; and yet, how 
he writes!" 

"Possibly he might not have written it/' sug- 
gested Ealph. 

" That is the * unldndest cut of all,' " retorted 
Osborne, " to charge him of plagiarism. Franklin 
would not descend to so mean a thing." 

They parted for that night ; but Ralph embraced 
the first opportunity to call on Benjamm, and have 
a sort of rejoicing over the success of their enter- 
prise. They laughed to their hearts' content, and 
discussed the point of revealing the secret. They 
finally concluded that the real author of the article 
should be known at their next meeting. 

Accordingly, the affair was managed to bring the 
facts of the case before their companions at their 
next gathering. Osborne was utterly confounded 
when the revelation was made, and knew not what 
to say for himself. Watson shook his whole frame 
with convulsive laughter at poor Osborne's expense, 
and Benjamin joined him with a keen relish. Never 
was a fellow in more mortifying predicament than 
this would-be critic, since it was now so manifest 
that he was influenced by blind prejudice in his crii>- 
icisms upon Ralph's poetry. It was certain now that 
he had given it his most emphatic indorsement. 

A few years after, Watson died in Benjamin's 
arms, much lamented by all his companions, who 
regarded him as " the best of their set." Oirborne 



A LITERAEY GAME. 201 

removed to the West Indies, where he became an 
eminent lawyer, but was early cut off by death. 
Of the others we shall have occasion to speak here- 
after. 

It is quite evident that this literary way of spend- 
ing their leisure time was of great advantage to this 
group of youths. Doubtless it had somewhat to do 
with the taste which most of them who lived' exhib- 
ited for literature and science in after hfe. It is cer- 
tainly an example of the wise use of spare moments 
which the young may safely imitate. 



XXI. 

GOING TO ENGLAND. 

AT THE earliest opportunity, Benjamin pre- 
sented the Governor with an inventory of 
the articles necessary in setting up the printing 
business. 

" And what will be the probable expense of 
all these ? " inquired the Governor. 

" About one hundred pounds sterling, as nearly 
as I can estimate," he replied. 

" But would it not prove an advantage for you 
to be there yourself, to select the types, and see that 
everything is good ? " 

" I suppose it would, though such a thing as go- 
ing to England is scarcely possible with me." 

" That remains to be seen," continued Governor 
Keith. " Another advantage of your being there 
is, that you could form acquaintances, and establish 
correspondence in the bookselling and stationery 
line." 

" That would certainly be an advantage," replied 
Benjamin. 

"Then get yourself ready to go in the Annis,'* 



GOING TO ENGLAND. 203 

said the Governor. The Annis was the annual ship 
that sailed between Pliiladelphia and London, and 
the only one, at that time, which performed this 
voyage. Instead of there being scores of vessels 
sailing between these two ports, as now, there was 
only this sohtary one, going and returning once 
a year. 

''It is not necessary to prepare immediately," 
answered Benjamin, " since it is several months 
before the Annis will sail." 

'' True ; I only meant that you should be in read- 
iness when the sliip sails. It will be necessary for 
you still to keep the matter secret while you con- 
tinue to work for Keimer." 

Keimer, for whom Benjamin worked, was a singu- 
lar man in some respects, and loved to draw him 
into discussions upon religious subjects. At one 
time he thought seriously of originating a new sect, 
and proposed to Benjamin to join him, as his mas- 
terly powers of argumentation would confound 
opponents. He wore his beard long, because it is 
somewhere said in the Mosaic Law, " Thou shalt 
not mar the corners of thy heard.'''' Also, he kept 
the seventh, instead of the first day of the week, 
as a Sabbath. Benjamin opposed him on these 
points, and their discussions were frequent and 
warm. Keimer often exhorted him to embrace his 
own peculiar views on these subjects. Finally Ben- 
jamin replied: "I will do it, provided you will 



204 THE PKINTER-BOY. 

join me in not eating animal food, and I will ad- 
here to them as long as you will stick to a vege- 
table diet." 

Benjamin was here aiming at some diversion, 
since Keimer was a great eater, and thought much 
of a savory dish. Benjamin rather wanted to starve 
him a little, as he thought some of liis preacliing 
and practice did not correspond. 

" I shall die," said Keimer, " to adopt such a 
diet ; my constitution will not bear it." 

" Nonsense ! " answered Benjamin. " You will 
be better than you are now. So much animal food 
is bad for any one." 

" What is there left to eat when meat is taken 
away ? " inquired Keimer. " Little or nothing, I 
should think." 

" I will pledge myself to furnish recipes for forty 
palatable dishes," answered Benjamin^ " and not one 
of them shall smell of the flesh-pots of Egypt." 

" Who will prepare them ? I am sure no woman 
in this town can do it." 

" Each dish is so simple that any woman can 
easily prepare it," added Benjamin. 

Keimer finally accepted the proposition. He was 
to become a vegetarian, and Benjanmi was to em- 
brace formally the long-beard doctrine, and observe 
the seventh day for a Sabbath. A woman was en- 
gaged to prepare their food and bring it to them, 
and Benjamin furnished her with a list of forty 



GOING TO ENGLAND. 205 

dishes, " in which there entered neither fish, flesh, 
nor fowl." For about three months Keimer ad- 
hered to this way of living, though it was very 
trying to him all the while. Benjamin was often 
diverted to see his manifest longings for fowl and 
flesh, and expected that he would soon let him off 
from keeping the seventh day and advocating long 
beards. At the end of three months, Keimer de- 
clared that he could hold out no longer, and the 
agreement was broken. It was a happy day for 
him ; and to show his gladness, he ordered a roast 
pig, and invited Benjamin and two ladies to dine 
with him. But the pig being set upon the table 
before his guests arrived, the temptation was so 
great that he could not resist, and he devoured the 
whole of it before they came, thus proving that he 
was a greater pig than the one he swallowed. 

It should be remarked here, that for some time 
Benjamin had not followed the vegetable diet which 
he adopted in Boston. The circumstances and rea- 
sons of his leaving are thus given by himself : — 

" In my first voyage from Boston to Philadelphia, 
being becalmed off" Block Island, our crew employed 
themselves in catching cod, and hauled up a great 
number. Till then, I had stuck to my resolution to 
eat nothing that had had life ; and on this occasion 
I considered, according to my master Tryon, the 
taking every fish as a kind of unprovoked murder, 
since none of them had nor could do us any injury 



206 THE PEINTER-BOY. 

that might justify this massacre. All this seemed 
very reasonable. But I had been formerly a great 
lover of fish, and when it came out of the frying-pan, 
it smelt admirably well. I balanced some time be- 
tween principle and inclination, till recollecting that, 
when the fish were opened, I saw smaller fish taken 
out of their stomachs ; then thought I, ^ If you eat 
one another, I don't see why we may not eat you.' 
So I dined upon cod very heartily, and have since 
continued to eat as other people ; returning only 
now and then to a vegetable diet. So convenient a 
thing it is to be a reasonable creature^ since it en- 
ables one to find or make a reason for everything 
one has a mind to do." 

The time was now approaching for the Annis to 
sail, and Benjamin began to realize the trial of leav- 
ing his friends. A new tie now bound him to Phila- 
delphia. A mutual affection existed between Miss 
Read and himself, and it had ripened into smcere 
and ardent love. He desired to consummate a for- 
mal engagement with her before departure, but her 
mother interposed. 

" Both of you are too young," said she, — " only 
eighteen ! You cannot tell what changes may occur 
before you are old enough to be married." 

"But that need not have anything to do with 
an engagement," said Benjamin. " We only pledge 
ourselves to marry each other at some future time." 

'* And why do you deem such a pledge neces- 
sary ? " asked the good mother. 



GOING TO ENGLAND. 207 

" Simply because ' a bird in the hand is worth two 
in the bush,' " replied Benjamin, with his face all 
wreathed with smiles. 

" But I have not quite satisfied myself that it is 
best to give up my daughter to a printer," added 
Mrs. Reed. 

" How so ? " asked Benjamin, with some anxiety. 

" Because," she replied, " there are already sev- 
eral printing-offices in the- country, and I doubt 
whether another can be supported." 

" If I cannot support her by the printing busi- 
ness," answered Benjamin, " then I will do it some 
other way." 

" I have no doubt of your good intentions ; but 
you may not realize the fulfilment of all your hopes. 
I think you had better leave the matter as it is 
imtil you return from England, and see how you 
are prospered." 

The old lady won the day, and the young couple 
agreed to proceed no further at present. 

The above reference to the fact that only four or 
five printing-offices existed in our country at that 
time, may serve to exhibit its rapid growth. For 
in 1840, there were one thousand five hundred and 
fifty-seven of them, and now, probably, there are 
twice that number. . 

" I am going to England with you, Benjamin," 
said Ralph one day, as they met. " Don't you be- 
Ueve it?" 



208 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" It is almost too good news to believe,'^ replied 
Benjamin. " But I should be glad of your com* 
pany, F assure you." 

" It is true," continued Ralph. " I was not jest- 
ing when I told you, the other day, that I meant to 
go if I could." 

" Then you are really m earnest ? You mean to 
go?" 

" To be sure I do. I have fully decided to go." 

Benjamin did not ask him what he was going for ; 
but, from some remarks he heard him make pre- 
viously, he inferred that he was going out to estiib- 
lish a correspondence, and obtain goods to sell on 
commission. Nor did he learn to the contrary until 
after they arrived in London, wlion Ralph informed 
him that he did not intend to return, — that he had 
experienced some trouble with his wife's relations, 
and he was going away to escape from it, leaving his 
•wife and child to be cared for by her friends. 

As the time of their departure drew near, Benja- 
min called upon the Governor for letters of intro- 
duction and credit, which he had promised, but they 
were not ready. He called again, and they were 
still unwritten. At last, just as he was leaving, he 
called at his door, and his secretary. Dr. Baird, came 
out, and said : " The Governor is engaged upon im- 
portant business now, but he will be at Newcastle 
before the Annis reaches there, and will deliver the 
letters to you there." 



GOING TO ENGI.AND. 209 

As soon as they readied Newcastle, Benjamin went 
to the Governor's lodgings for the letters, but was 
told by Ills secretary that he was engaged, and 
sliould be under the necessity of sending the let- 
ters to him on board the ship, before she weighed 
anchor. Benjamin was somewhat puzzled by this 
unexpected turn of affairs, but still he did not 
dream of deception or dishonesty. He returned 
to the vessel, and awaited her departure. Soon 
after her canvas was flung to the breeze, he went 
to the captain and inquired for the letters. 

"I understand," said he, "that Colonel French 
brought letters on board from the Governor. I sup- 
pose some of them are directed to my care." 

" Yes," replied the captain, " Colonel French 
brought a parcel of letters on board, and they 
were all put into the bag with others, so that I 
cannot tell whether any of them are for you or 
not. But you shall have an opportunity, before 
we reach England, of looking them over for your- 
self." 

"I thank you," answered Benjamin; "that will 
be all that is necessary;" and he yielded himself 
up to enjoyment for the remainder of the voyage, 
without the least suspicion of disappointment and 
trouble. 

When they entered the English Channel, the cap- 
tain, true to his promise, allowed Benjamin to exam- 
ine the bag of letters. ' He found several on which 

N 



210 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

his name was written, as under his care, and some 
others he judged, from the handwriting, came from 
the Governor. One of them was addressed to Bas- 
kett, the King's printer, and another to a stationer, 
and these two, Benjamin was confident, were for 
him to take. In all he took seven or eight from the 
bag. 

They arrived in London on the 24th of Decem- 
ber, 1724, when Benjamin lacked about a month of 
being nineteen years old. Soon after he landed, he 
called upon the stationer to whom one of the letters 
was directed : " A letter, sir, from Governor Keith, 
of Pennsylvania, America ! " 

"I don't know such a person," replied the sta- 
tioner, at the same time receiving the letter. 
' "0, this is from Riddlesden 1 " said he, on open- 
ing it. " I have lately found him to be a complete 
rascal, and I will have nothing to do with him, noi 
receive any letters from him ; " and he handed back 
the letter to Benjamin, turned upon his heel, and 
left to wait upon a customer. 

Benjamin was astonished and mortified. He had 
not the least suspicion that he was bearing any other 
than the Governor's letter, and he was almost bewil- 
dered for a moment. The thought flashed into his 
mind that the Governor had deceived him. In a 
few moments his thoughts brought together the acts 
of the Governor in the matter, and now he could 
see clearly evidence of insincerity and duplicity. 



GOING TO ENGLAND. 211 

He immediately sought out Mr. Denham, a mer- 
chant, who came over in the Annis with him, and 
gave him a history of the affair, 

" Governor Keith is a notorious deceiver," said 
Mr. Denham. '' I do not thmk he wrote a single 
letter for you, nor intended to do it. He has been 
deceiving you from beginning to end.'* 

" He pretended to have many acquaintances here," 
added Benjamin ; "to whom he promised to give 
me letters of credit, and I supposed that they would 
render me valuable assistance." 

" Letters of credit ! " exclaimed Denham. " It is 
a ludicrous idea. How could he write letters of 
credit, when he has no credit of his own to give ? 
No one who knows him has the least confidence in 
his character. There is no dependence to be placed 
upon him in anything. He is entirely irresponsi- 
ble." 

" What, then, shall I do ? " asked Benjamin with 
evident concern. " Here I am among strangers 
without the means of returning, and what shall I 
do?" 

" I advise you to get employment in a printing- 
office here for the present. Among the printers 
here you will improve yourself, and, when you 
return to America, you will set up to greater ad- 
vantage." 

There was no alternative left for Benjamin, but 
to find work where he could, and make the best of 



i212 THE printer-boy: 

it. Again he had ^^ paid too dear for the ^Yhistle/' 
and must sufter for it. He took lodgings with 
Kalph in Little Britain, at three shillings and six- 
pence a week, and verj soon obtained work at 
Palmer's fixmous printmg-house in Bartholomew 
Close, whei-e he labored nearly a yeai*. Ralph ^v-as 
not so successful in getting a situation. He made 
application here and there, but in vain ; and, after 
several weeks of fruitless attempts at securing a 
place, he decided to leave London, and teach a 
country school. Previously, however, in company 
with Benjamin, he spent much time at plays and 
public amusements. This was rather strange, since 
neither of thorn had been wont to waste theu' time 
and money in this way ; and years after, Benjamin 
spoke of it as a great error of his life, which he 
deeply regretted. But Ralph's departure put an 
end to this objectionable pleasure-seeking, and Ben- 
jamin returned to his stiuiious habits when out of 
the office. 

At this time, the ability to compose which he had 
cai-efuUy nurtured proved of great assistance to 
him. He was employed in the printing of Wollas- 
ton's " Religion of Nature," when he took excep- 
tions to some of his reasoning, and wrote a disser- 
tation thereon, and printed it, with the title, "A 
Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, I^asure 
AND Pain.'* Tliis pamphlet fell into tlie hands of 
one Lyons, a surgeon, author of a book entitled 



nOINQ TO ENGLAND. 213 

"Tlio Iiiranil)ilil,y of Tlinnaii Jud^inont," juid ho 
was so much pleased witli it, tliat ho souglit out 
tlio author, and Bliowcd him marked attention. Wa 
iiiirodiiced him to Dr. Mandeville, autlior of liio 
'' i<'ahle of the Bees," and to Dr. reniberton, who 
promised to take him to sco Sir Isaac Newton. iSir 
iliins Sh)ano invited him to his houso in Dioojns- 
hiiry Hquaro, and showed him all his curiosities. 
In this way, the small pam[)hlct which ho wrote iji- 
troduced him to distinguished men, which was of 
much advantage to him. 

While ho lodged in Littlo Britain, ho made tlio 
acquaintance of a bookseller, by tho name of Wil- 
cox, who had a very largo collection of second- 
hand hooks. Benjamin wanted to gain access to 
them, hut ho could not command tho means to 
purchase ; so ho hit upon this plan : ho profjosed 
to Wilcox to pay him a certain sum per hook for 
as many as ho might choose to take out, read, and 
return, and Wilcox accepted his offer. In this 
transaction was involved tho principle of the mod- 
ern circulating library. It was tho first instance of 
loaning books on record, and for that reason be- 
comes an interesting fact. It was another of the 
influences that served to send him forward in a 
career of honor and fame. 

When ho first entered tho printing-house in Lon- 
don, ho did press-work. There were fifty workmen 
in the establishment, and all of them but Benjamin 



214 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

were great beer-drinkers ; yet he could lift more, 
and endure more fatigue, than any of them. His 
companion at the press was a notorious drinker, and 
consumed daily " a pint of beer before breakfast, a 
pint at breakfast with his food, a pint between break- 
fast and dinner, a pint at dinner, a pint in the after- 
noon about six o'clock, and another when he had 
done his day's work," — in all six pints per day; 
enough to entitle him to a rank among beasts. 
They had an alehouse boy always in attendance 
upon the workmen. 

" A detestable habit," said Benjamin to his fellow- 
pressman, " and a very expensive one, too." 

" I could n't endure the wear and tear of this 
hard work without it," replied the toper. 

" You could accomplish more work, and perform 
it better, by drinking nothing but cold water," re- 
joined Benjamin. " There is nothing like it to 
make one strong and healthy." 

" Fudge ! It may do for a Water- American like 
you, but Englishmen would become as weak as 
babes without it." 

" That is false," said Benjamin. " With all your 
drinking strong beer in this establishment, you arc 
the weakest set of workmen I ever saw. I have seen 
you tug away to carry a single form of type up ar.d 
down stairs, when I always carry two. Your beer 
may be strongs but it makes jon-weak.^^ 

"You Americans are odd fellows, I confess," 



J 



GOmG TO ENGLAND. 215 

added the beer-swigger ; " and you stick to your 
opinions like a tick." 

" But look here, my good fellow," continued Ben- 
jamin. " Do you not see that the bodily strength 
afforded by beer can be only in proportion to the 
grain or flour of the barley dissolved in the water 
of which it is made ? There must be more flour in 
a pennyworth of bread, than there i§ in a whole 
quart of beer ; therefore, if you eat that with a pint 
of water, it will give you more strength than two or 
Aroe pints of beer. Is it not so ? " 

The man was obliged to acknowledge that it ap- 
peared to be so. 

Benjamin continued : " You see that I am sup- 
|jlied with a large porringer of hot water-gruel, 
sprinkled with pepper, crumbled with bread, and a 
oit of butter in it, for just the price of a pint of 
oeer, three halfpence. Now, honestly, is not this 
much better for me, and for you, than the same 
amount of filthy beer ? " 

Thus Benjamin thorned his companions with ar- 
guments against the prevailing habit of beer-drink- 
ing. Gradually he acquired an influence over 
many of them, by precept and example, and finally 
they aoandoned their old habit, and followed his 
better w^ay of living. He wrought a thorough ref- 
ormation in the printing-office ; and the fact shows 
what one young man can do in a good cause, if 
he will b\ft set his face resolutely in that direc- 



216 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

tion. Benjamin possessed the firmness, indepen- 
dence, and moral courage to carry out his princi- 
ples, — just the thing which many youth of his age 
lack, and consequently make shipwreck of their 
hopes. 

The only amusement which Benjamin seems to 
have enjoyed as much as he did literary recreation, 
w^s swimming. From his boyhood he delighted to 
be in the water, performing wonderful feats, and 
tryhig his skill in various ways. At one time he let 
up his kite, and, taking the string in his hand, lay 
upon his back on the top of the water, when the 
kite drew him a mile in a very agreeable manner. 
At another time he lay floating upon his back and 
slept for an hour by the watch. The skill which he 
had thus acquired in the art of swimming won him 
quite a reputation in England. On several occa- 
sions he exhibited his remarkable attainments of 
this kind, and the result was that he was applied to 
by Sir William Wyndham to teach his two sons to 
swim. Some advised him to open a swimming 
school, and make it his profession; but he very 
wisely concluded to leave the water to the fish, and 
confine himself to the land. 

Benjamin had been in London nearly eighteen 
months, when Mr. Denham, the merchant of whom 
we have spoken, proposed to him to return to Phila- 
delphia, and act in the capacity of bookkeeper for 
him, and offered him fifty pounds a year, with the 



GOING TO ENGLAND. 217 

promise to promote him, and finally establish him 
in business. Benjamin had a high respect for Mr. 
Denham, and the new field of labor appeared to 
him inviting, so that he accepted the proposition 
with little hesitation, and made preparations to 
leave England, quitting forever, as he thought, the 
art of printing, which he had thoroughly learned. 

Forty years after Benjamin worked in Palmer's 
printing-office, he visited England in the servdce 
of his country, where he was widely known as a 
sagacious statesman and profound philosopher. He 
took occasion to visit the old office where he once 
labored with the beer-drinkers, and, stepping up to 
the press on which he worked, month after month, 
he said : " Come, my friends, we will drink to- 
gether. It is now forty years since I worked, 
like you, at this press, as a journeyman printer." 
With these words, he sent out for a gallon of porter, 
and they drank together, according to the custom 
of the times, — a circumstance that shows he had 
not become proud and haughty m consequence of 
sharing largely in worldly honors. That press, on 
which he worked in London, is now in the Patent- 
Office at Washington. 



10 



I -' 



XXII. 

TAEEWELL TO ENGLAND. 

ON THE 23d day of July, 1726, Benjamin sailed 
for Philadelphia, in company with Mr. Den- 
ham. After a successful and rather pleasant voyage 
of nearly three months, they reached Philadelphia, 
much to the satisfaction of Benjamin, who always 
enjoyed Ms stay there. He was now twenty years 
of age. 

" Ah ! is it you, Benjamin ? I am glad to see you 
back again," said Keimer, as his old journeyman 
made his appearance ; and he shook his hand as 
if his heart was in it. " I began to think you had 
forsaken us." 

" Not yet," replied Benjamin. " I think too 
much of Philadelphia to forsake it yet." 

"Want -work at your old business, I suppose," 
added Keimer. " I have a plenty of it. You see 
I have improved things since you were here ; my 
shop is well supplied with stationery, plenty of new 
types, and a good business ! " 

" I see that you have made considerable advance," 
replied Benjamin. " I am glad that you prosper." 



FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 219 

" And I shall be glad to empioy you, as none of 
my men are complete masters of the business." 

" But I have relinquished my old trade," an- 
swered Benjamin. "I — " 

" Given up the printing business ! " interrupted 
Keimer. " Why is that ? " 

" I have made arrangements with Mr. Denham 
to keep his books, and serve him generally in the 
capacity of clerk." 

"I am sorry for that, and I think you will be 
eventually. It is a very uncertain business." 

" Well, I have undertaken it for better or worse," 
said Benjamin, as he rose to leave the shop. 

As he was going down the street, who should"^ he 
meet but Governor Keith, who had been removed 
from his office, and was now only a common cit- 
izen. The ex-Governor appeared both surprised 
and ashamed at seeing him, and passed by him 
without speaking. 

Benjamin was quite ashamed to. meet Miss Read, 
smce he had not been true to his promise. Though 
he had been absent eighteen months, he had written 
her but a single letter, and that was penned soon 
after his arrival in London, to inform her that he 
should not return at present. His long absence 
and silence convinced her that he had ceased to 
regard her witL xifection ; in consequence of which, 
at the earnest persuasion of her parents, she mar- 
ried a potter by the name of Rogers. He turned 



220 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

out to be a miserable fellow, and she lived with him 
only a short time. He incurred heavy debts; ran 
away to the West Indies to escape from his credit- 
ors, and there died. 

Miss Read (she refused to bear the name Rogers) 
was disconsolate and sad, and Benjamin pitied her 
sincerely, inasmuch as he considered himself to 
blame in the matter. He was not disposed to shield 
himself from the censure of the family, had they 
been disposed to administer any ; but the old lady 
took all the blame upon herself, because she pre- 
vented an engagement, and persuaded her daughter 
to marry Rogers. 

These circumstances rendered his meeting with 
Miss Read less unpleasant, so far as his own want 
of fidelity was concerned. His intimacy with the 
family was renewed, and they frequently invited 
him there to tea, and often sought his advice on 
business of importance. 

Mr. Denham opened a store in Water Street, and 
Benjamin entered upon his new business with high 
hopes. He made rapid progress in acquiring knowl- 
edge of traffic, and soon became expert in keeping 
accounts and selling goods. But in February, 1727, 
when Benjamin was twenty-one years of age, both 
he and his employer were prostrated by sickness. 
Benjamin's disease was the pleurisy, and his life 
was despaired of, though he unexpectedly recov- 
ered. Mr. Denham lingered along for some +imew 



FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 221 

and died. His decease was the occasion of closing 
the store and throwing Benjamin out of business. 
It was a sad disappointment, but not wholly unlike 
the previous checkered experience of his life. He 
had become used to " ups and downs." 

As a token of his confidence and esteem, Mr. 
Denham left a small legacy to Benjamin, — a fact 
that speaks well for the young man's faithfulness. 
And here it should be said, that, whatever faults the 
hero of our story had, he always served his employ- 
ers with such ability and fidehty as won their appro- 
bation and confidence. Unlike many youth, who 
care not for their employers' interests if they but 
receive their wages and keep their places, he ever 
did the best he could for those who employed him. 
He proved himself trustworthy and efficient ; and 
here is found one secret of his success. 

In his disappointment, Benjamin sought the ad- 
vice of his brother-in-law, Captain Homes, who hap- 
pened to be in Pliiladelphia at the time. 

"I advise you to return to your old business," 
said he. " I suppose you can readily get work here, 
can you not ? " 

"All I want," Benjamin answered. " Keimer 
was very anxious to employ me when I returned 
from England, and I dare say that he would hire 
me now." 

'• Then I would close a bargain with him at once, 
were I in your place. I think you will succeed bet- 



222 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

ter at your trade than in any other business, and 
perhaps the way will soon be prepared for you to 
open a printing-office of your own." 

This advice was followed without delay, and Kei- 
mer was eager to employ him. In the outset, he 
offered him extra wages to take the entire manage- 
ment of his printing-office, so that he (Keimer) 
might attend more closely to his stationer's shop. 
The offer was accepted, and Benjamin commenced 
his duties immediately. He soon found, however, 
that Keimer's design in offering him so large wages 
was, that the hands he already employed might be 
improved under his experience, when it would not 
be necessary for him to hire so competent a person. 
The facts show us that good workmen can command 
employment and high wages, when poor ones are 
obliged to beg their bread. 

Among Keimer's workmen was an Oxford stu- 
dent, whose time he had bought for four years. 
He was about eighteen years of age, smart and 
intelligent. Benjamin very naturally became in- 
terested in him, as it was quite unusual to find an 
Oxford scholar acting in the capacity of a bought 
servant ; and he received from him the following 
brief account of his life. He " was born in Glouces- 
ter, educated at a grammar-school, and had been 
distinguished among the scholars for some appar- 
ent superiority in performing his part when tliey 
exhibited plays ; belonged to the Wits' Club there, 



FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 223 

and had written some pieces in prose and verse, 
which were printed in the Gloucester newspapers. 
Thence was sent to Oxford, where he continued 
about a year, but not well satisfied ; wishing, of all 
things, to see London, and become a player. At 
length, receivuig his quarterly allowance of fifteen 
guineas, instead of discharging his debts, he went 
out of town, hid his gown in a furze-bush, and 
walked to London ; where, having no friend to 
advise him, he fell into bad company, soon spent his 
guineas, found no means of being introduced among 
the players, grew necessitous, pawned his clothes, 
and wanted bread. Walking the street, very hun- 
gry, not knowing what to do with himself, a crimp's 
bill was put into his hand, offering immediate enter- 
tainment and encouragement to such as would bind 
themselves to work in America. He went directly, 
signed the indentures, was put into the ship, and 
came over ; never writing a line to liis friends, to 
acquaint them what was become of him." 

Such a case has several important lessons for the 
young. In the first place it shows the danger that 
attends theatrical performances. Youth often won- 
der that good people object to them ; but here they 
may see one reason of their opposition. It was at 
the school in Oxford that he imbibed a love for the 
stage. There he participated in dramatic plays,^ 
which caused him to run away, and seek a residence 
in London, where he was ruined. There are hun- 



224 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

dreds of similar examples, and these cause good 
people to condemn theatrical amusements. It is 
said that when Lord Jeffreys was a youth, at the 
College in Glasgow, he was instrumental in originat- 
ing a dramatic performance. The play was select- 
ed, and a room of the College designated as a fitting 
theatre, when the authorities interfered, and for- 
bade them to perform the play. Their interference 
aroused the ire of Jeffreys, who, in his " Notes on 
Lectures," denounced their conduct as " the mean- 
est, most illiberal, and despicable.'' Many youth 
cherish similar feelings towards those who condemn 
such performances ; and, if one of the number shall 
read these pages, we would point him to the sad 
end of the Oxford student. 

This case also illustrates the sad consequences of 
keeping bad company, as well as the perils of the 
city. He associated with the vicious in London, 
and became really a vagabond in consequence. 

As the workmen improved under Benjamin's 
supervision, Kcimer evidently began to thifik of 
discharging him, or cutting down his wages. On 
paying his second quarter's wages, he told him 
that he could not continue to pay him so much. 
He became less civil, frequently found fault, and 
plainly tried to make Benjamin's stay uncomforta- 
ble, so that he would leave. At length a rare op- 
portunity offered for him to make trouble. Aii 
unusual noise in the street one day caused Bcjija- 



FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 225 

mill to put his head out of the window to see what 
was the matter. Keimer happened to be in the 
street, and seeing him, he cried out, " Put your 
head in and attend to your business," and added 
some reproachful words which all in the street 
heard. Then, hastening up into the office, he con- 
tinued his insulting language. 

'-' Men who work for me must give better heed to 
their business," said he. " If they care more for 
a noise in the street than for their work, it is time 
they left." 

" I am ready to leave any time you please," re- 
torted Benjamin, who was considerably nettled by 
such treatment. " I am not dependent on you for 
a living, and I shall not be treated in this way long, 
I assure you." 

"That, indeed!" exclaimed Keimer. "You 
would not stay another hour if it were not for our 
agreement, in accordance with which I now warn 
you that at the end of a quarter's time I shall hire 
you no more." 

" You need not regret that you cannot send me 
away to-day," answered Benjamin. " I shall work 
no longer for a man who will treat me thus," — 
and, taking his hat, he left. As he passed down, he 
requested Meredith, one of the hands, to bring some 
things which he left behind to his lodgings. 

In the evening Meredith went to see Benjamin, 
carrying the articles just referred to. 

10* 



226 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" What shall you do now ? " Meredith inquired. 

" I shall return to Boston forthwith." 

" I would n't do that. You can do much better 
here than you can there." 

" What can I do here now ? " 

" Set up business for yourself." 

" I have no money to do it with." 

" My father has," said Meredith, " and I will go 
into company with you if lie will furnish the means. 
I am not acquainted with the business, and you 
are ; so I will furnish the capital, and you shall 
manage the concern, and we will share the profits 
equally." 

" Your father will never do it," suggested Benja- 
min. 

" I am confident that he will," replied Meredith. 
" He has a high opinion of you, and he wants a 
good opportunity to set me up. I will ask him, at 
any rate." 

" I would like such an enterprise myself," added 
Benjamin ; " but can we succeed against Keimer ? 
He will now do all he can to crush me." 

" He will be crushed himself before long," an- 
swered Meredith. " I happen to know that he is in 
debt for all the property in his hands. He keeps 
his shop miserably, too, often sells without profit in 
order to raise money, and trusts people without 
keeping accounts. He will fail as surely as he 
keeps on in this way." 



FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 227 

" J will agree to your plan if you can make it 
work," said Benjamin. " See your fatlier immedi- 
ately, and let me know the result." 

Accordingly, Meredith saw his father, and he was 
ready to furnish the necessary capital, because of 
his high regard for Benjamin. 

" I am more ready to do this," said he to Benja- 
min, afterwards, " because of your good influence 
over my son. You have prevailed upon him to 
leave off drinking to excess, and I hope he will be 
persuaded, by your more intimate connection in 
business, to reform entirely." 

It was settled that they should set up business as 
soon as they could procure the necessary articles 
from England. 



XXIII. 

SETTING UP BUSINESS. 

A GREEABLE TO the arrangement with Mere- 
-i-3. dith, Benjamin made out an inventory of arti- 
cles, which were immediately ordered from England. 
In the mean time he expected to find work at Brad- 
ford's printing-office, but \^s disappointed. It was 
only a few days, however, before he received a very 
civil message from Keimer, in which he said, " that 
old friends should not part for a few words, the 
effect of sudden passion," and urged him to return. 
The fact was, he had a prospect of being employed 
to print some paper money in New Jersey, which 
would require cuts and various types that Benjamin 
only could supply, and therefore he wanted to re- 
engage him. Benjamin was not quite inclined to 
accept the proposition at first, but Meredith urged 
him to do it, on the ground that he himself would 
become better acquainted with the business in con- 
sequence ; he therefore concluded to return. 

It was several months before the new types arrived 
from London, and Benjamin continued in Keimer's 
service. Most of the time he spent with his em- 



SETTING UP BUSINESS. 229 

[)loyer at Burlington, executing the paper money, 
and there made many friends, among whom was 
Judge Allen, the Secretary of the Province, several 
members of the Assembly, and the Surveyor-Gen- 
eral, all of whom were of service to him when he 
set up business for himself. They were much 
pleased with Benjamin's intelligence and fidehty, so 
that they frequently invited him to their houses, 
while the ignorance and rudeness of Keimer so dis- 
gusted them, that they took little notice of him. 

"You are complete master of your business," 
said the Surveyor-General to him ; " and success is 
before you." 

"I have improved my opportunities," modestly 
replied Benjamin, "to become as well acquainted 
with my business as I could. This half way of 
doing things I do not like." 

" I commenced business in a very humble way," 
continued the Surveyor-General, " without expect- 
ing to ever possess such an estate as I do now." 

" What was your business ? " 

"I wheeled clay for the brick-makers, and had 
not the opportunity of going to school at all in my 
boyhood. I did not learn to write until I became 
of age. I acquired my knowledge of surveying 
when I carried a chain for surveyors, who were 
pleased with my desire to learn the business, and 
assisted me. By constant industry and close appli- 
cation, with a good deal of perseverance, I have 



230 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

succeeded in reaching the place where you now seo 
me." 

" That is all the way any one can work his way 
up to an honorable position," said Benjamin. 

" True, very true, and I am glad to see that you 
understand it. I am confident that you will work 
this man Keimer out of his business, and make a 
fortime in it at Philadelpliia, if you go on as you 
have begun." 

This example of industry and perseverance was 
encouraging to Benjamin in his circumstances. It 
was exactly suited to confirm him in his very proper 
views of industry and fidelity. 

Meredith and Benjamin settled with Keimer and 
left him just before their types arrived, without let- 
ting him into the secret of their plans. The first in- 
timation he had of their intentions was the opening 
of their printing-office near the Market. 

Many people were taken by surprise, and most of 
them predicted a failure, since there were two print- 
ers established there already. Not long after they 
commenced, an elderly man, whose name was Sam- 
uel Mickle, happened to be passing just as Benjamin 
came out of his office. 

"Are you the young man," said Mickle, "who 
has lately opened a new printing-house ? " 

" I am, sir." 

" I am sorry for you," said he, " for it is an ex- 
pensive undertaking, and you are throwing away 
your money." 



SETTING UP BUSINESS. 231 

" How SO ? '' 

" Because Philadelphia is degenerating, and half 
the people are now bankrupt, or nearly so, and how 
can they support so many printers ? " 

" But the appearance of Philadelphia," replied 
Benjamin, " indicates thrift. See how many build- 
ings are going up, and how rents are rising every 
month. This does not look like going backward." 

" These are among the very things that will ruin 
us," responded Mickle. " They are not evidence of 
prosperity, but of extravagance, that will bring dis- 
aster sooner or later." 

In this strain, Mickle, who was one of those eccen- 
tric and unhappy men who always look upon the 
dark side of things, went on, until Benjamin really 
began to feel blue. But on the whole, he concluded 
that the evidence of his own senses was to the con- 
trary, and so he forgot the interview soon. Mickle 
continued to live there some years, refusing to buy a 
house because the town was going to ruin, and at 
last he purchased one for five times what he could 
have had it for at the time he talked with Benjamin. 

In their printing-office, Franklin suspended the 
following lines, wliich he composed : — 

" All ye who come tliis curious art to see, 
To handle anything must careful be ; 
Lest by a slight touch, ere you are aware, 
You may do mischief which you can't repair. 
Lo ! this advice we give to every'stranger I 
Look on and welcome, but to touch there 's danger.' 



232 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

This singular notice attracted some attention, and 
elicited remarks from diiferent visitors. 

In order to win the confidence of the public, and 
secure their patronage, Benjamin resolved in the 
outset to exhibit to all beholders several qualities 
which guarantee success ; namely, industry, econ- 
omy, integrity, and close application to his business. 
All of them had become habits with him, and hence 
it was easy for him to conduct in this manner. 

In respect to industry, he labored incessantly. 
Even some of his hours that ought to have been 
devoted to sleep were spent in his ofiice at hard 
work. 

Mention being made of the new printing-house at 
the " Merchants' Every-night Club," " It will prove 
a failure," said one. 

" Of course it will," added another. " Two such 
young fellows cannot get business enough to support 
them, with two established printers here." 

This was the general opinion. But Dr. Baird, 
who was present, said : '' It will prove a success. 
For the industry of that Franklin is siiperior to any- 
thing I ever saw of the kind. I see him still at work 
when I go home from club, and he is at work again 
before his neighbors are out of bed." 

This remark was appreciated by the members, 
and soon after one of them offered to supply tlie 
young printers with stationery, if they desired to 
open a shop. 



SETTING UP BUSINESS. 233 

It was his experience, doubtless, that caused him, 
years afterwards, to give the following advice to a 
" young tradesman " : — 

" The most trifling actions that affect a man's 
credit are to be regarded. The sound of your ham- 
mer at five in the morning, or nine at night, heard 
by a creditor, makes him easy six months longer ; 
but if he sees you at a bilhard-table, or hears your 
voice at a tavern, when you should be at work, he 
sends for his money the next day ; demands it, before 
he can receive it, in a lump." 

He also wrote : " He that idly loses five sliillings' 
worth of time loses five shillings, and might as pru- 
dently throw five shillings into the sea." 

One fine morning, after Meredith and Franklin 
opened a stationer's shop and bookstore, a lounger 
stepped in, and, after looking over the articles, in- 
quired of the boy in attendance the price of a certain 
book. 

" One dollar," was the answer. 

" One dollar," said the lounger, " can't you take 
less than that ? " 

" No indeed ; one dollar is the price." 

After waiting some time he asked : "Is Mr. 
Franklin at home ? " 

"Yes, he is in the printing-office." 

" I want to see him," said the lounger. 

The shop-boy soon informed Franklin (as we will 
henceforth call him) that a gentleman was waitmg 
to see him in the shop. 



234 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

" Mr. Franklin, what is the lowest you can take 
for this book ? " he asked, as Franklin came in. At 
the same time he held up the book at which he had 
been looking. 

" One dollar and a quarter," was the reply. 

" One dollar and a quarter ! Why, your young 
man asked but a dollar." 

" True," said Franklin, " and I could have better 
afforded to take a dollar then, than to have been 
taken out of the office." 

The lounger looked surprised, and rather conclud- 
ing that Franklin was jesting, he said, " Come, now, 
tell me the lowest you can take for it." 

" One dollar and a half." 

" A dollar and a half ? Why, you offered it your- 
self for one dollar and a quarter." 

" Yes," answered Franklin, " and I had better 
have taken that price then, than a dollar and a half 
now." 

The lounger paid the price, and went out of the 
shop, feeling the severity of the rebuke. Such was 
the value he attached to his time. 

Franklin always ascribed his industrious habits to 
the frequent counsels of his father on the subject, 
wliich were generally closed by repeating the text 
of Scripture, " Secst thou a man diligent in his 
calling, he shall stand before kings, he shall not 
stand before mean men," — a prophecy that was 
singularly fulfilled in his own case, as we shall 



SETTING UP BUSINESS. 235 

Bee hereafter, for he had the honor of standing before 
five kings, and even dined with the King of Den- 
mark. 

His economy was equal to his industry. He ar- 
rayed himself in the plainest manner, although he 
aimed to look neat and tidy. His board was simple 
and cheap, and everything about liis business was 
graduated on the most economical principles. In 
order to save expense, and at the same time show 
the public that he was not proud, and above his 
business, he wheeled home the paper which he 
bought. This single act had its influence in gain- 
ing the public confidence. For when a young man 
gets above his business, he is quite sure to have a 
fall. Since Franklin's day, in the city of Richmond, 
a young man went to the market to purchase a 
turkey. He looked around for some one to carry 
it home for him, being too proud to do it himself, 
and finding no one, he began to fret and swear, much 
to the annoyance of by-standers. A gentleman 
stepped up to him and said, " That is in my way, 
and I will take your turkey home for you." When 
they came to the house, the young fop asked, 
" What shall I pay you ? " " 0, nothing at all," 
replied the gentleman, " it was all in the way, and 
it was no trouble to me." As he passed on, the 
young man turned to a person near by, and in- 
quired, " Who is that poHte old gentleman who 
brought home my turkey for me ? " " 0," replied 



236 THE PKINTER-BOY. 

he, " that was Judge Marshall, Chief Justice of the 
United States." " Wliy did he bring home my 
turkey ? " " He did it to give you a rebuke, and 
teach you to attend to your own business," was the 
answer. 

How contemptible does such a proud character 
appear in contrast with Franklin ! It is not strange 
that the public withhold their confidence from such 
a fop, and bestow it upon the opposite class. Judge 
Marshall was a great man, and great men never get 
above their business. Franklm became a great 
man, and one reason of it was, that he never be- 
came too proud to wait upon himself. 

After he married Miss Read, and commenced 
housekeeping, he still adhered to the same principle 
of economy. Instead of doing as many young men 
do, at this era of life, live beyond their income, he 
continued- frugal. He said of himself and wife: 
" We kept no idle servants, our table was plain and 
simple, our furniture of the cheapest. For instance, 
my breakfast was for a long time bread and milk 
(no tea), and I ate it out of a twopenny earthen 
porringer, with a pewter spoon." Thus he reduced 
to practice the couplet which he wrote : — 

" Vessels large may venture more, 
But little boats should keep near shore." 

And qualified himself to pen such maxims as the 
following : — 

"It is easier to suppress the first desire, than to 
satisfy all that follow it." 



SETTING UP BUSINESS. 237 

" It is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, 
as for the frog to swell in order to equal the ox/' 

" Pride breakfasts with plenty, dines with poverty, 
and sups with infamy." 

His integrity in transacting business was no less 
marked. Strict honesty characterized all his deal- 
ings with men. An exalted idea of justice per- 
vaded his soul. His word of honor was as good as 
his note of hand. Even his disposition to castigate 
and censure in his writings, so manifest in Boston 
at seventeen years of age, and which his father 
rebuked, was overcome. After he set up a paper in 
Pliiladelphia, a gentleman handed him an article for 
its columns. 

" I am very busy now," said Franklin, " and you 
will confer a favor by leaving it for my perusal at 
my leisure." 

" That I will do," replied the writer, " and call 
again to-morrow." 

The next day the author called. " What is youi 
opinion of my article ? " he asked. 

" Why, sir, I am sorry to say that I cannot pub- 
lish it," answered Franklin. 

" Why not ? . What is the matter with it ? " 

" It is highly scurrilous and defamatory," replied 
Franklin. " But being at a loss, on account of my 
poverty, whether to reject it or not, I thought I 
would put it to tliis issue. At night, when my 
work was done, I bought a twopenny loaf, on which 



238 THE PRINTER-BOY, 

I supped heartily, and then, wrapping myself in my 
great coat, slept very soundly on the floor unti] 
morning, when another loaf and mug of water 
afforded a pleasant breakfast. Now, sir, since I can 
live very comfortably in this manner, why should I 
prostitute my press to personal hatred or party pas- 
sion for a more luxurious hving ? " 

Some writer has said that this incident of Frank- 
lin's early life is akin to Socrates's reply to King Ar- 
chelaus, who pressed him to give up preaching in 
the dirty streets of Athens, and come and live with 
him in his costly palace : " Meal^ please your Maj- 
esty, is a halfpenny a peck at Athens, and water 1 
^et for nothing,''^ 

Their business prospered finely ; but Meredith's 
intemperate habits were so strong, that he was fre- 
quently seen intoxicated in the streets, which oc- 
casioned much gossip about town concerning the 
prospects of their success. To add to their embar- 
rassment, Meredith's father was unable to meet the 
last payment of a hundred pounds upon the print- 
ing-house, and they were sued. But William Cole- 
man and Robert Grace, two of Franklin's bo<)n 
companions, came to his assistance. 

" We will loan you the means to take the busi- 
ness into your own hands," said Coleman. "It is 
much to your discredit to be connected with Mer- 
edith, who is seen reeling through the streets so 
often." 



SETTING UP BUSINESS. 239 

" But I cannot honorably propose a dissolution 
of partnership," replied Franklin, "while there is 
any prospect that the Merediths will fulfil their part 
of the contract, because I feel myself under great 
obligations for what they have done." 

" They will not be able to fulfil the contract," 
said Grace ; " that is out of the question." 

" That is my opinion," responded Franklin ; 
" still, I must wait and see what they do. If they 
fail to meet their obligations, then I shall feel at 
liberty to act otherwise." 

The matter was left here for some weeks, when 
Franklin said to Meredith, meaning to sound him 
on the matter of dissolving the partnership : " Per- 
haps your father is dissatisfied with the part you 
have undertaken in this affair of ours, and is un- 
willing to advance for you and I what he would for 
you alone. If that is the case, tell me, and I will 
resign the whole to you, and go about my business." 

" No," he answered, " my father has really been 
disappointed, and is really unable ; and I am un- 
willing to distress him further. I see tliis is a busi- 
ness I am unfit for. I was bred a farmer ; and it 
was folly in me to come to town, and put myself, 
at thirty years of age, an apprentice to learn a new 
trade. Many of our Welsh people (he was a Welsh- 
man) are going to settle in North CaroUna, where 
land is cheap. I am inclined to go with them, and 
follow my old employment ; you may find friends 



240 THE PKINTEK-BOY. 

to assist yon. If you will take the debts of the com- 
pany upon you, return to my father the hundred 
pounds he has advanced, pay my little personal 
debts, and give me thirty pounds and a new sad- 
dle, I will relinquish the partnership, and leave the 
whole in your hands." 

Franklin accepted this proposition, and, with the 
aid of his two friends, was soon established in busi- 
ness alone. His patronage increased rapidly, and 
he was able to pay off his debts.. In a very short 
time he commanded the chief printing business of 
the town, and Keimer sold out, and removed to 
Barbadoes. The Pennsylvania Gazette^ which he 
commenced printing before Meredith left him, won 
the public favor, and became a source of profit to 
him. As an example of his resolution and firm- 
ness, and his economy and prudence, it is said that 
certain subscribers to his paper were incensed at 
an article that appeared in its columns, and they 
threatened to " stop their patronage ; " whereupon 
Franklin invited them to dine with him, and, hav- 
ing set before them a coarse meal mixture, from 
which his guests drew back, he remarked : " Gen- 
tlemen, a man who can subsist on saivdust pudding' 
need call no man patron" 

Here, in early life, our hero laid the foundation 
of his fortune ; and the reader need not be at a loss 
to discover the secret of his success. He made him- 
self by the sterling elements of character which he 
cultivated 



XXIV. 

THE JUNTO. 

SOON APTER Franklin returned from England, 
he was instrumental in forming his literary as- 
sociates into a club for mutual improvement, called 
the " Junto/' which met every Friday evening. This 
club continued nearly forty years, and FrankHn said 
of it, " It was the best school of pliilosophy, morality, 
and politics, that then existed in the Province ; for 
our queries, which were read the week preceding 
their discussion, put us upon reading with attention 
on the several subjects, that we might speak more 
to the purpose ; and here, too, we acquired better 
habits of conversation, everything being studied in 
our rules which might prevent our disgusting each 
other." 

" I have a proposition to submit," said Franklin, 
at one of their meetings, "and it is this. We 
frequently have occasion to refer to our books, in 
our discussions, and I propose that we bring our 
books together in this room, and form a hbrary ; 
each having the privilege of using the books of 
the other." 

11 P 



242 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

"I like the plan much," said Parsons, one of 
the members. " Nobody but Franklin would have 
thought of it." 

" I think that every member must subscribe to 
this measure," said Coleman. " I hope it will be 
done at once." 

And thus it went round the room, each one ex- 
pressing his approval of the plan. The consequence 
was, that one end of the room was filled with vol- 
umes ; and the plan proved profitable to all. 

At that time, books were very scarce. " There 
was not a good bookseller's shop in any of the Col 
onies to the southward of Boston." The readers 
of Pennsylvania usually sent to England for their 
books, which was both troublesome and expensive. 

The members of the " Junto " derived so much 
benefit from the plan of bringuig their books to- 
gether, that Franklin conceived the idea of estab- 
lishing a library, and formed his plan, which was 
successful. He found fifty persons in town, mostly 
young tradesmen, who were willing to pay down 
forty shillings each, and ten shillings per annum; 
and with these the library was commenced. This 
was the first library ever established in this coun- 
try, and it now numbers more than sixty thousand 
volumes. Since that day libraries have multiplied 
rapidly. 

The following are some of the questions for the 
" Junto," and they show that it was really a thor- 
ough and valuable organization. 



THE JUNTO. 248 

*' Have you met with anything, in the author you 
last read, remarkable, or suitable to be commimi- 
cated to the Junto ? particularly in history, moral- 
ity, poetry, physics, travels, mechanic arts, or other 
parts of knowledge." 

"Hath any citizen failed in business, and what 
have you heard of the cause ? " 

" Have you lately heard of any citizen's thriving 
well, and by what means ? " 

" Do you know of a fellow-citizen who has lately 
done a worthy action, deserving praise and imita- 
tion ; or who has lately committed an error, proper 
for us to be warned against and avoid ? " 

" What unhappy effects of intemperance have 
you lately observed or heard ? — of imprudence ? — 
of passion ? — or of any other vice or folly ? 

" What happy effects of temperance ? — of pru 
dence ? — of moderation ? — or of any other vir- 
tue ? " 

" Do you think of anything at present in which 
the Junto may be serviceable to mankind, to their 
country, to their friends, or to themselves ? " 

"Hath any deserving stranger arrived in town 
since last meeting, that you have heard of ? — and 
what have you heard or observed of his character 
or merits ? — and whether, think you, it lies in the 
power of the Junto to oblige him, or encourage 
him as he deserves ? " 

" Do you know of any deserving young beginner 



244 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

lately set up, whom it lies in the power of the Junto 
any way to encourage ? " 

" Have you lately observed any defect in the laws 
of your country, of which it would be proper to 
move the Legislature for an amendment ? or do you 
know of any beneficial law that is wanting ? " 

" Is there any man whose friendship you want, 
and which the Junto, or any of them, can procure 
for you ? " 

This is a sample of the questions asked at their 
meetings, and answered. It is not difficult to see 
the mind of Franklin in these inquiries, and many 
of them were evidently suggested by his own expe* 
rience. 

Some of the questions discussed by the members 
of the Junto were as follows : — 

" Is sound an entity or body ? '' 

" How may the phenomena of vapors be ex- 
plained ? '' 

" Can any one particular form of government suit 
all mankind ? " 

" Is the emission of paper money safe ? " 

" How may smoky chimneys be best cured ? " 

" Which is least criminal, — a had action Joined 
with a good intention, or a good action with a had 
intention ? " 

There have been improvements in almost every- 
thing in modern times, but we doubt if there has 
been much improvement upon the " Junto " in 



THE JUNTO. 245 

literary organizations for the young. It is not sur- 
prising, that, of the original twelve members (the 
number was limited to twelve), two became sur- 
veyors-general ; one the inventor of a quadrant ; 
one a distinguished mechanic and influential man ; 
and one " a merchant of great note and a provin- 
cial judge ; " and all but one or two, respectable 
and honored men. 

At this time, Franklin had commenced the study 
of the languages, employing only such leisure mo- 
ments as he had to master them. It was a great 
undertaking, but his application and perseverance 
were equal to the task. He began with French, 
and was soon able to read books in that langaiage. 
Then he took Italian. A friend, who was studying 
it also, tempted him to play chess. He played a 
little, and finding that it consumed time, he refused 
to play any more, unless on the condition that " the 
victor in every game should have a right to impose 
a task, either of parts of the grammar to be got by 
heart, or in translaftons, which tasks the vanquished 
was to perform upon honor before the next meet- 
ing." In this way, he learned the Italian language. 
Subsequently he acquired sufficient knowledge of 
Spanish to enable him to read books m that tongue. 
He studied Latin a year in Boston, before he was 
ten years old, but since that time he had neglected 
it. His acquaintance now with other languages 
revived his taste for the Latin, however, so that he 
mastered that. 



246 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

Surely here is literary work enough for a youth 
who is earning a livelihood by hard labor, ha^dng 
only snatches of time to devote to reading and 
study. There is no work of his whole life that is 
more replete with interest than this ; for it shows 
that he possessed indomitable energy and force of 
character, together with other valuable traits. He 
proved that it was possible for liim to be a scholar 
while he was a printer. 

The " Junto " appears to have been copied in 
England, half a century after this period. Wlien 
the celebrated Canning was in his youth, being edu 
cated at Oxford, a debating society was organized, 
limited to the number of six, who met every Thurs- 
day evening at the rooms of the members. At 
each meeting, before they separated, the subject for 
the next meeting was voted and recorded. Here 
Canning and Jenkinson (who became Earl of Liver- 
pool) made their first speeches, and here they 
received impulses that helped them on to fame. 

FrankUn began to think mor^ of religion, and to 
raise some queries respecting his former doubts, 
*)on after he came back from England. The two 
young men whose religious sentiments he corrupted 
and unsettled turned out badly, and cheated him 
out of quite a sum of money, and this led him to 
inquire if it was not because they ignored religious 
principle. He witnessed other conduct among those 
who talked lightly of religion, which caused him to 



THE JUNTO. 247 

inquire, whether, after all, his parents were not in 
the right. He stayed away from meeting, and de- 
voted the Sabbath to study, which had a very bad 
look. Yet, he said, " I never was without some 
religious principle. I never doubted the existence 
of a Deity ; that he made the world and governed it 
by his providence ; that the most acceptable service 
of God was the doing good to man ; that our souls 
are immortal ; and that all crimes will be punished, 
and virtue rewarded, either here or hereafter." 
He also subscribed something for the support of the 
only Presbyterian meeting in Philadelphia, and 
advocated the importance of sustaming public wor- 
ship. 

The mmister called upon him, and counselled 
him to attend meeting, just when he was beginning 
to think better of it, and it had the effect to bring 
him out occasionally. Once he went five Sabbaths 
in succession. But the preacher was dull and un- 
interesting, so that Franklin was not well pleased ; 
still he continued •to attend occasionally, until, one 
Sabbath, the preacher took the following text: 
" Finally, brethren, whatsoever thmgs are true, 
honest, just, pure, lovely, or of good report, if there 
be any virtue, or any praise, think on these things." 
The minister was usually doctrinal in his style of 
preaching, but now Franklin thought he would 
have something practical. Consequently he was 
sadly disappointed when he found that the discourse 



248 THE PRINTER-BOY 

embraced only the following points: — 1. Keeping 
holy the Sabbath-day. 2. Being diligent in read- 
ing the Scriptures. 3. Attending duly public wor- 
ship. 4. Partaking of the Sacrament. 5. Paying 
a due respect to God's ministers. Franklin thought 
that these subjects, though very good, did not be- 
long to such a text, and he was so dissatisfied with 
the sermon, that he ceased going to meeting. 

Conscience, however, did not slumber. He saw 
and felt that he was wrong, and, in order to make 
himself better, he began to lead a self-righteous life. 
He imposed religious duties upon himself. He re- 
turned to the use of a form of prayer which he pre- 
pared some time before, when his thoughts were 
dwelling upon religious things. In that prayer, 
under the head of " Thanks," occurs the follow- 
ing : — 

" For the common benefits of air and light, for 
useful fire and delicious water, — Good God, I 
thank Thee ! " 

" For knowledge and literature, and every useful 
art ; for my friends and their prosperity, and for 
the fewness of my enemies, — Good God, I thank 
Thee I " 

" For all thy innumerable benefits ; for life, and 
reason, and the use of speech ; for health, and joy, 
and every pleasant hour, — My good God, I thank 
Thee ! " 

He made a little book, in which he wrote down 



THE JUNTO. 249 

certain virtues that he ought to cultivate, and pre- 
pared a table for the same. The following were 
the virtues : — 

" 1. Temperance. — Eat not to dulness ; drink 
not to elevation. 

"2. Silence. — Speak not but what may benefit 
others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation. 

" 3. Order. — Let all your things have their 
places ; let each part of your business have its 
time. 

"4. Resolution. — Resolve to perform what you 
ought ; perform without faU what you resolve. 

"5. Frugality. — Make no expense but to do 
good to others or yourself; that is, waste nothing. 

" 6. Industry. — Lose no time ; be always em- 
ployed in something useful ; cut off all unneces- 
sary actions. 

" 7. Sincerity. — Use no hurtful deceit ; think 
innocently and justly ; and, if you speak, speak 
accordingly. 

" 8. Justice. — Wrong none by doing injuries, 
or omitting the benefits that are your duty. 

"9. Moderation. — Avoid extremes; forbear re- 
senting injuries so much as you think they de 
serve. 

"10. Cleanliness. — Tolerate no uncleanliness 
in body, clothes, or habitation. 

" 11. Tranquilhty. — Be not disturbed at trifles, 
or at accidents, common or unavoidable. 
11* 



250 THE PRINTER-B'^Y. 

"12. Chastity. 

"13. Humility. — Imitate Jesus and Socrates." 
These are very good so far as they go, and they 
show that he studied to form a high character, — 
that he earnestly desired to be true to himself 
and his fellow-men. A youth who will take such 
a stand for virtue is not likely to fail of securing 
the public confidence. It is the foreshadowing of 
his success. 



XXV. 

CONCLUSION. 

WE HAVE followed the subject of this volume 
from the time he paid too dear for his whis- 
tle, to the period when he was well established in 
business. We have seen what his character was as 
a PRINTER-BOY, and hence his promise of success. 
He was not perfect by any means; on the other 
hand, he had marked failings. Yet, underneath 
the whole, we have discovered certain qualities that 
are indispensable to eminence in one's vocation. 
And now it remains to see, briefly, whether the 
principle we advocate was true in his case, namely, 
" that the boy is father of the man." To do this, 
we shall pass over a series of years, and take a suc- 
cinct view of his position and influence in middle 
and advanced life. 

It should be recorded first, however, that the diffi- 
culty between himself and his brother James was 
adjusted, ten years after his first visit to Boston. 
James had removed and settled in Newport, where 
he was fast declining in health, and Benjamin went 
thither to see him. Their past differences were for- 



252 THE PRINTEE-BOY. 

gotten, and their interview was signalized by mutual 
forgiveness. It was then that Benjamin promised 
to take his brother's little son, ten years old, after 
the father was' no more, and bring him up to the 
printing busmess. This pledge he fulfilled, doing 
even more for the lad than he promised, for he sent 
him to school two or three years before he took him 
into the office, and finally he established him in busi- 
ness. This, certainly, was a happy termination of a 
quarrel that was creditable to neither party. The 
result was decisive evidence that both parties de- 
plored their conduct towards each other. 

Wliile he was yet a young man, he was promoted 
to different posts of distinction. He filled various 
offices in Philadelpliia, and served the State of Penn- 
sylvania in several public ways, in all of which he 
did himself honor. He devoted a portion of his 
time to philosophical studies, in which he earned a 
world-wide fame. His mind was ever busy in pro- 
jects to benefit society, and no work was too humble 
for him to do for the good of others. At one time 
he is found inventing a stove for domestic use, called 
afterward the Franklin stove, with which Governor 
Thomas was so well pleased, that he offered him 
a patent for the sole vending of them for a series 
of years ; but Franklin refused it, on the ground, 
'Hhat, as ive enjoy great advantages from the inven- 
tions of others, we should be glad of an opportunity 
to serve others by any invention of ours ; and this we 



CONCLUSION. 253 

should do freely cmd generously.'*^ This was an- 
other mstaiice of his remarkable generosity, and it 
reminds us of that incident of his life in France, 
when an English clergyman asked liim for pecuni- 
ary assistance. He gave him liberally, remarking, 
" Some time or other you may have an opportunity 
of assisting with an equal sum a stranger who has 
equal need of it. Do so. By that means you may 
discharge any obligation you may suppose yourself 
under to me. Ikijoin him to do the same on occa- 
sion. By pursuing such a practice, much good may 
be done with little money. Let kind offices go 
round. Mankind are all of a family." 

At another time he is engaged in improving the 
lamps that light the city, and devising ways of clean- 
ing the streets. Then, again, he is originating a 
system of volunteer militia for the defence of his 
country. Extinguishing fires, also, is a subject that 
commands his thoughts, a^d he organized the first 
fire company in the land. Again, the education of 
youth demands his time, and he labors to introduce 
a system of schools, and finally founds a University. 
Thus the humblest acts of a good citizen were per- 
formed in connection with the noblest deeds of the 
philosopher and statesman. 

The following is a brief synopsis of the offices he 
filled, and the honors he won: — 

He was Legislator for Pennsylvania in 1732, 
when only twenty-six years op age. 



254 the printer-boy. 

He founded the University op Pennsylvania. 

Deputy Post-Master General in 1752. 

Inventor of Lightning-rods. 

Was elected Fellow of the Royal Society. 

Originator of Volunteer Militia. 

Colonel of Militia. 

Minister to the Court of England in 1764. 

Member of the Continental Congress in 1775. 

Minister Plenipotentiary to France in 1776 

Concluded first Treaty for America in 1778. 

Received Degree of LL. D. from Oxford Unf 

VERSITY. 

Minister Plenipotentiary to Prance in 1778. 

One of five to draft the Declaration op 
Independence. 

Helped frame the Constitution of the United 
States. 

A Leader in the American Revolution. 

Called the " Nestor of America " by the 
National Assembly of France. 

Admitted to the highest literary assemblies 
of Europe. 

Like "Washington, " first in war, first in 

PEACE, and first IN THE HEARTS OF HIS COUNTRY- 
MEN." 

Honored as a great Philosopher, sagacious 
Statesman, and sincere Philanthropist. 

Ill reading the history of the United States, no 
name is more conspicuous than that of Franklin. 



CONCLUSION. 255 

His agency is everywhere seen and acknowledged 
in laying the foundation of our institutions, and 
achieving our country's glories. The memory of 
no patriot and philosopher has been more dear to 
generations that have come and gone since his day. 
Abroad, as well as at home, he was honored. At 
one time, in France, " prints, medallion portraits, 
and busts of Franklin were multiplied throughout 
France ; and rings, bracelets, canes, and snuff-boxes, 
bearing his likeness, were worn or carried quite 
generally." In England, and other parts of Europe, 
similar homage was paid to his greatness. Since 
that period his statue has been erected in the halls 
of learning and legislation, literary societies have 
adopted his name to give them pre-eminence, and 
numerous towns have been called after him. The 
author's native place was named in honor of Frank- 
lin, who afterwards presented the town with a val- 
uable library that is still in existence. On being 
informed by a friend that this town had adopted his 
name, he inquired what sort of a present would be 
acceptable to the inhabitants as an acknowledgment 
of their respect and homage. The friend suggested 
that a hell might prove a timely gift, as they were 
erecting a new house of worship. But Franklin 
thought otherwise, and decided to present a library. 
He jocosely remarked, in the letter which accom- 
panied the books, that he '^ supposed a town that 
would adopt his name must he more fond of sense 
than, sound. "^^ 



256 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

It would multiply the pages of this volume be- 
yond its designed limits to enumerate all the public 
posts of honor that Franklin adorned, and all the 
marks of respect that have been paid to his mem- 
ory. This brief reference to the more prominent 
of these is sufficient to afford the reader a view of 
the REMARKABLE MAN, and to illustrate the force of 
energy, industry, integrity, and perseverance, in 
human destiny. 

Washington wrote to him : " If to be venerated 
for benevolence, if to be admired for talents, if to 
be esteemed for patriotism, if to be beloved for phi- 
lanthropy, can gratify the human mind, you must 
have the pleasing consolation'to know that you have 
not lived in vain. And I flatter myself that it will 
not be ranked among the least grateful occurrences 
of your life to be assured that, so long as I retain 
my memory, you will be recollected with respect, 
veneration, and affection, by your sincere friend, 
George Washington." 

Congress was in session when FrankHn died, and 
when his death was announced, on motion of Madi- 
son, it was resolved that a badge of mourning be 
worn for one month, " as a mark of veneration due 
to the memory of a citizen whose native genius was 
not more an ornament to human nature than his 
various exertions of it have been precious to science, 
to freedom, and to his country." 

In France, Condorcet eulogized him in the Acad- 



caNCLusiON. 257 

emy of Science, and Mirabeau in the National As- 
sembly. The latter said ; " Antiquity would have 
erected altars to this great and powerful genius." 

When Rachel was dying, she named her infant 
son " Ben-oni," which means, " son of my sorrow," 
because he was the occasion of her sufferings and 
death. But Jacob, his father, called him " Benjar 
min," which signifies " the son of a right hand." 
There was a time when Franklin's mother, weeping 
over her runaway boy, would have called him " Ben- 
oni," and it might have appeared to observers that 
he would turn out to be such. But the excellent 
lessons of his early home, and the good traits of 
character which he nurtured, caused him to become 
a true Benjamin to his parents, — "a son of their 
Tight hand." With a warm, filial heart, he sought 
to minister to their wants in their declining years, 
and, as we have seen, offered the last and highest 
tribute of affection in his power, when they were 
laid in the dust. 

In his riper years, Franklin sincerely regretted 
the doubts of his youth and early manhood respect 
ing religion. The sentiments that were poured into 
his young mind by fond, parental lips, he came 
to respect and cherish. He went to the house of 
God on the Sabbath with great constancy ; and, as 
if recollecting the sin of his youth, he wroie t^ 
his daughter, " Go constantly to church, whoever 
yreachesT His own experience taught him that it 

Q 



258 THE PRINTER-BOY. 

was dangerous and wicked to forsake the sanctuary. 
He became interested in every good work. His 
influence and his purse were offered to sustain 
Christianity. He appreciated every benevolent en- 
terprise, and bade them God-speed. On one occa- 
sion the celebrated Whitfield preached in behalf of 
an orphan asylum, which he proposed to erect in 
Georgia. Franklin was not in full sympathy with 
the plan, because he thought it should be erected in 
Pennsylvania, and the orphans brought there. Still, 
he listened to the eminent preacher imprejudiced, 
and when the collection was taken, at the close of 
the meeting, he emptied his pockets of all the 
money he had, which consisted of " a handful of 
copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five 
pistoles in gold." 

He sympathized deeply with the poor and needy, 
and espoused the cause of the oppressed in every 
land. He was the first president of the Pennsylva- 
nia Anti-Slavery Society, and both his hand and 
heart were pledged to the cause of freedom. One 
of his biographers, summing up his character in 
these particulars, says : " He was bold, consistent, 
active, and greatly in advance of his age. From 
his Quaker brethren in Philadelphia he contracted 
all their zeal in behalf of humanity, although in his 
mind it put on the aspect of plain, practical b^efi- 
cence. He was ever foremost in all humane enter 
prices. He was never misled, through sympathy 



CONCLUSION. 259 

with a majority,' into the support of measures 
which, though popular, were inconsistent with a 
high-toned Christian morality. He was the cham- 
pion of the Indians when to advocate their cause 
was to displease the many. He was one of the 
earliest opponents of the slave-trade and slavery. 
He omitted no opportunity to protest against war 
and its iniquity, and he branded as piracy the cus- 
tom of privateering, however sanctioned by interna- 
tional usages. As a statesman and philosopher his 
name is imperishable. As an active benefactor of 
his race, he is entitled to its lasting gratitude. As 
one of the founders of the American Union, he 
must ever be held in honorable remembrance by all 
who prize American institutions. As the zealous foe 
to oppression in all its forms, he merits the thankful 
regard of good men of all ages and climes." 

He carried his reverence for God, and his regard 
for Christianity, into the high places of authority. 
He proposed the first Day of Fasting and Prayer 
ever observed in Pennsylvania, and wrote the Proc- 
lamation for the Secretary of State. Wlien the Con- 
vention to frame the Constitution of the United 
States met in Philadelphia, in 1787, he introduced 
a motion into tliat body for daily prayers, which, 
strange to say, was rejected. In support of his 
motion, he made the following memorable address, 
which fairly illustrates his usual disposition to recog- 
nize God in all human affairs : — 



260 THE FHLN-li^K-BuV. 

"In the beginning of the contest with Britain, 
when we were sensible of danger, we had daily 
prayers in this room for Divine protection. Our 
prayers, sir, were heard ; and they were graciously 
answered. All of us, who were engaged in the 
struggle, must have observed frequent instances of 
a superintendmg Providence in our favor. To that 
kind Providence we owe this happy opportunity of 
consultmg in peace on the means of establishing 
our future national felicity. And have we now for- 
gotten that powerful Friend, or do we imagine we 
no longer need His assistance ? I have lived, sir, 
a long time ; and the longer I live, the more con- 
vincing proofs I see of tliis truth, that God governs 
in the affairs of men. And, if a sparrow cannot fall 
to the ground without his notice, is it probable that 
an empire can arise without his aid ? We have 
been assured, sir, in the sacred writings, that, ' ex- 
cept the Lord build the house, they labor in vain 
that build it.' I firmly believe this ; and I also 
believe, that, without His concurring aid, we shall 
succeed in this poHtical building no better than the 
builders of Babel ; we shall be divided by our little, 
partial, local mterests ; our projects will be con- 
founded, and we ourselves shall become a reproach 
and a by-word down to future ages. And, what is 
worse, mankind may hereafter, from this unfortu- 
nate instance, despair of establishing government 
by human wisdom, and leave it to chance, war, and 



CONCLUSION. 261 

conquest. I therefore beg leave to move, that 
henceforth prayers, imploring the assistance of 
Heaven, and its blessing on our deliberations, be 
held in this assembly every morning before we pro- 
ceed to business ; and that one or more of the 
clergy of tiiis city be requested to officiate in that 
service." 

His confidence in the Christian religion, and his 
regard for purity of conduct, did not diminish as he 
drew near the grave. On the other hand, he bore 
earnest testimony to the faith of his fathers until 
the close of his life, and, ere he died, renewed his 
vindication of the Scriptures, in the following cir- 
cumstances. 

A young man called to see him, as he lay upon 
his death-bed, scarcely able to articulate. Dr. Frank- 
lin welcomed him with a benignant look, wliich he 
was wont to cast upon the young, and imparted 
some good advice to him. 

" What is your opinion with regard to the truth 
of the Scriptures ? " inquired the young man, who 
was somewhat sceptical. 

Franklin replied, although in a very feeble state, 
" Young man, my advice to you is, that you culti- 
vate an acquaintance with, and a firm belief in, the 
Holy Scriptures ; this is your certain interest." 



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